Missing Pieces AND Sequel: Picking Up the Pieces
by polysgirl
Summary: Ranger is leaving for a final mission. But what about the pieces he is leaving behind? A look at his and Steph's relationship in the few days prior to his departure. And what happens next? Two part series, 2nd part over 2 chapters.
1. Missing Pieces

**Ok. So I decided to challenge myself to actually try writing emotion. Warnings for this include potential spoilers through PL, and probably, if I did my job right, ANGST. Oh, and adult content, of course. **

**THANK YOU, Stayce, for all of the wonderful help and edits. **

**There is one more companion story, which I have yet to write. But since I wrote this one in a day, it's safe to say the next will be done within the week. Well...if you all think I should write it :) **

Missing Pieces 

**2 a.m. Feb 21. 2 days.**

The sensation of the bed dipping under an unexpected weight startled me awake. My scream caught somewhere in my throat as I realized it was Ranger, sitting on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots.

"Go back to sleep, Babe." He said softly, as he stood and peeled his shirt off.

"But-"

"Just sleep, Steph." He repeated as he stripped down to his boxers. He peeled back the covers and I resisted the urge to run away. What did he want? What was he doing here? He glanced over at my bedside table, where the single, beautiful long stemmed rose he had sent me for Valentines Day sat, a couple of the petals wilting around the edges, but otherwise still strong and beautiful. It had been more than a week since I'd last seen him, in my apartment when he came to tell me he was going out of town and had to talk to me when he got back. I wondered if this was going to be the talk. What was going to be the talk??? I looked away from the rose, to look at Ranger as he stood, hands fisted at his sides, looking down at me. His face was blank.

"Ranger wha-" I was cut off by a single shake of Ranger's head. He sank down onto the bed, gathering me up against him and tucking me into the cradle created by his body, before pulling the blankets over both of us. His heat seeped in, enveloping me in warmth. He smelled wonderful, and felt like heaven. His one arm was underneath me, kind of, the crook of his elbow pillowing my head, his hand coming around to splay across my lower back. His other hand was tracing my ribs, one by one, painstakingly slow.

"Are you ok?" I finally asked. His fingers stilled, and he was silent for a minute. What if he was sick? Why did this feel like an ending? I glanced up at the rose.

"I just need to hold you." He said, at length. His fingers resumed their exploration, as if he was memorizing my body. I pulled back just slightly to study his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth tight. Tension lines marred his face, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a couple of days. Something was wrong. I knew it then to the depth of my being, and suddenly I felt his pain wash over me. And it became mine. I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand.

"Ranger...Carlos." I whispered. I couldn't finish. I couldn't ask. Suddenly I didn't want to know. His eyes opened, and his gaze pierced mine. He sighed, and rolled onto his back, taking me with him and tucking my head underneath his chin so I couldn't see his face.

"Please, Stephanie. Babe. I just want to hold you." He repeated. "To take the feel of you with me. To remember." His voice was quiet, whisper soft with a hint of sadness and resignation. My heart starting beating so hard and fast that it physically hurt. Something was really, really wrong. Ranger didn't talk like that. Ranger didn't TALK. And now he was waxing eloquence and talking like a lover who was...OMIGOD.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" I said, struggled up and pushing myself up on his chest, to look into his face. It wasn't a question. His eyes were closed and his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly as he fought with himself.

"Yes." He finally said hoarsely. He didn't open his eyes, wouldn't look at me.

"For how long?"

He didn't answer. He just shifted me back down, wrapping me tightly in his arms and rubbing circles on my back. His body had tensed, and he took a ragged breath. And that's when I realized he wasn't coming back.

"Why?" I whispered, as I fought against the tears flooding my eyes. I didn't want them to fall. I didn't want to be so weak, not until he was gone. I didn't want him to know how badly he was going to hurt me.

He took another ragged, shuddering breath. "The government called me in." He whispered into my hair. "I'm out of the service, a free man. But they called me in anyway. I couldn't say no."

I stiffened, and tried to push myself back up on his chest to blast him for not just saying no. My dad taught me you always have a choice. ALWAYS. His arms tightened around me before I could move, and he anchored me down. "They threatened Rangeman." He finally said.

"And they're keeping you for the rest of your life?" I asked, choking on a sob, still trying to keep my emotions in check. I wish I had half of Ranger's ability to hide himself. I wish I knew how to not bare my soul.

"Just for this mission."

"Then why won't you be coming home?" I asked. I wiggled out of his grasp and propped myself up on his chest again. His face wasn't blank anymore, and when he opened his eyes, I saw the answer deep in the swirling black pools of emotion gazing back at me. "Oh no. They can't." They wouldn't. "They want you to- They can't. No." I shook my head hard, over and over again, out of control of my actions until his hand cupped my cheek and stopped it. A tear escaped despite my efforts to keep them in, and he brushed it away with his thumb, his owns eyes shining suspiciously. Not that he'd ever shed a tear. "They can't tell you that you have to kill yourself, for them!" I ground out, my voice shrill.

He shook his head. "It's not like that. But it's extremely unlikely the team will get out alive." It was a suicide mission. Plain and simple. Whether it was by his own hand or not. I couldn't control my breathing anymore, it was erratic and panicked. Ranger's hand was rubbing circles across my shoulder blades and I could barely feel it. My arms shook with the effort of holding myself up, and I watched as he closed his eyes again, shielding himself, anguish written across his expression. "Babe, please. I only have tonight left in Trenton."

I slowly collapsed back down on his chest. This was it. My last night with him, and then he would be lost to me, probably forever. There was no way I could shove him out of my bed, but I was a bit surprised that all he wanted to do was hold me. I needed to hold him, too, though, now. I didn't know how I'd manage without him. I loved him, even though I've never found a way to tell him. But I wanted him to have more than this to take with him. I wanted more than this to remember. I couldn't bear... I squirmed loose of his arms again and felt Ranger suppress a sigh.

"Babe." He whispered, trying to settle me back down. No way. I had to do this now, or I would lose my nerve, and then lose our last chance, forever. I wiggled until I was braced up on his chest and looked down at him again. His eyes were still closed, and didn't open as I cupped his cheek with my hand. He turned his head into my touch, just a bit. I took a steadying breath, leaned down, and touched my lips ever-so-softly to his. I kissed him once, twice, then moved to kiss his cheek, his eyes, his forehead.

"Stephanie." He exhaled. His hand came up to tangle in my hair, moving me back to his mouth. I kissed him again, and traced his lips with my tongue. He turned his head sideways, and opened one eye to gaze into mine. "Are you sure?" He asked.

I didn't trust my voice; I just turned his head back towards me and kissed him again. I trailed kisses down his face, his neck, his shoulders. I made my way down his body, creating my own memory of him. Eventually, he tugged gently on my hair, and I made my way back up to his mouth. This time, when our lips met, he kissed me back with more emotion than I'd ever felt in my life. He rolled us in one easy motion so that he was on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, covering me completely. It felt so good, so right.

"Are you sure?" He asked again, breaking the kiss and staring intently into my eyes, his gaze searching.

"Y-ye-es." I said, my voice shaky as I fought my emotions. He seemed to sense that the hesitation wasn't in my decision, but my ability to speak, and acquiesced when I pulled his head down, and his lips met mine, kissing me with exquisite tenderness. It was his turn to travel my body, making love to every inch of me, removing our clothes as he went. When he finally slid inside of me, he stopped, gazing down at me for a long moment before he started to move with agonizing slowness, loving me tenderly and completely. And through it all, he never stopped kissing me.

I woke up early, the first rays of morning light filtering in through my window. They landed softly on Ranger's cheek, shining, accentuating his features as he slept. He was laying half on top of me, our bodies a tangle of arms and legs. He was still inside of me. His breathing changed, and his eyelids twitched as he woke. He started to harden and I automatically clenched around him. I tipped my head up, and my lips found his. He made a humming sound in the back of his throat as he came to full awareness and slipped his tongue into my mouth to dance with mine. We made love again, slowly and gently. Afterwards, he rolled onto his back and cradled me against him, whispering softly in Spanish. There was no afterglow, just sadness. His watch beeped, and he groaned.

"How much more time do you have?" I asked. Maybe he set his watch so he could go back to Rangeman and get ready. Maybe he could shower with me here. He thought for a minute, before answering.

"A little bit." He admitted. "I'm going to Newark to see my parents today." I tightened my arm, flung over his waist, trying to keep him with me. He hugged me closer and kissed my forehead. We held each other for a long while, savoring the feel. I tried to pretend this was forever, that he wasn't leaving. I didn't let myself think. It was easier. Denial kept me from falling apart.

Eventually he sighed, another very un-Ranger-like thing to do, and pulled away just a little bit. His lips touched my forehead, then he kissed me, long and lingering. "I love you." He whispered against my lips, before pulling away. He got up and walked over to my dresser, where his clothes sat, neatly folded. I watched as he reached for his shirt, and then caught sight of the framed picture just behind them. He picked it up, staring at it for a long minute. It was a picture of Ranger and me, standing by his Porsche outside the bonds office. It wasn't anything special, not really, just the two of us in partial-profile. But Lula had managed to take it at the perfect angle, and I must have been teasing him because I was looking up at him, and my eyes danced even in the photograph. And on Ranger's face, well, I'm pretty sure it was lust, but you never know for sure with Ranger. He put the picture down, braced his hands on the dresser and stood, head bowed.

I hadn't managed to rein in my emotion this time, and I got up, tears streaming down my face, and wrapped my arms around Ranger's waist, molding myself to his back. I rested my head against the back of his neck, and squeezed my arms.

"Can you get a copy of that made?" He asked, his voice hoarse, each word deliberate. "Leave it with Tank to bring when he drives me to the airport."

I took a shuddering breath and pulled my hand from around his waist to swipe the tears away. I sniffled, before wrapping my arm back around him. I splayed both hands across his stomach, memorizing the feel of him again. "When do you leave?" I finally asked, my voice barely a whisper. I moved my head over to his shoulder, leaning my head sideways against his neck.

He met my eyes in the mirror. "I'm flying to Miami tonight to see Julie and Rachel, and finalize some stuff with Rangeman. I become the government's early on the 22nd." He let go of my dresser, and covered my hands with his.

"Take me with you." I demanded. "Please."

"Babe."

"PLEASE. Let me be with you."

"It's only two nights."

"It's better than none." I argued.

"What about Joe?"

I opened my mouth, and closed it again. Ranger went to step out of my arms, but I tightened them convulsively with a smothered "No." He waited while I tried to get my thoughts together. Joe and I... we were something... I don't know what... as of about four days ago. Not completely off-again, but not on-again either. The switch was kind of stuck in the middle of on and off, and he was out of town again anyhow.

"He's out of town."

"Babe."

"I don't know." I finally admitted in a whisper. "I want to go with you." I needed as much time as I could have. I never wanted to be clingy, but I never thought our time would be so finite. It was worse than when Scrog shot him. Way worse. This... this was shattering.

Ranger nodded, and reached for his phone. "Get a second ticket to Miami. See if we can fly out tomorrow morning. Stephanie. No." He told whoever was on the other end, probably Tank. He hung up after the No, and turned to face me. "We'll go shower at the apartment. I need to pick my stuff up." And, I knew without him saying that he had a bigger shower and we'd both fit in it easier. I quickly packed a bag with enough clothes for four days, just in case. Ranger sifted through my closet and pulled out a sexy black dress, before eyeing my shoe collection. I stepped over and pulled a couple of pairs out, holding them up for his inspection. Silently, he took a pair from me and added everything to my pile.

On the way out, he grabbed Rex. "Are we taking him?"

"Tank can take care of him. Unless you want to drop him off with Mary Lou."

I thought about it for a minute. Mary Lou was my best friend, but I didn't think I could face her, or the Burg, or anyone else right now. I was too raw, and it would take away from what little time I had left with Ranger. I shook my head. "Tank is fine."

**8 p.m. Feb 20 1.5 days**

The dash of the Porsche was lit, casting an intimate glow around us. I loved this car at night, I thought, as Ranger drove out of town. We were heading away from Trenton; I had no idea where we were going, but I didn't feel right about asking. I didn't really care, as long as we were together. Ranger was silent, in his zone. It was much like every other time we'd traveled together, except for my hand. Shortly after pulling away from his parents' house, Ranger had reached over and taken my hand, twining our fingers together and placing them on his thigh. His thumb rubbed circles over my wrist as he drove.

It had been uncomfortable for me, meeting his family in such a situation. It was, however, worth it to be near Ranger. He hadn't been kidding when he had said that he came from a large family. His mother was on the phone within minutes of our arrival, and a couple of hours later his entire family had shown up. His sisters kept trying to get me alone and question me, especially Celia, but Ranger wouldn't let me out of his reach. He told Celia to have dinner with me sometime in the future if she wanted to grill me, and that was the end of discussion...well...after Celia smacked him across the head.

"I want you near." He had whispered to me after she walked off. His family proved to be wonderful and loving, albeit loud and raucous. He wasn't kidding, either, when he said that they hit each other on a regular basis. His mother had smacked him HARD upside the head when he told her he would be away on a mission of indeterminate length. She blasted him for leaving me behind, and not staying home and settling down. I opened my mouth to defend him when Ranger squeezed my hand and shook his head at me. He never did tell them he didn't think he'd make it home.

"I don't tell them much about work." Ranger said softly, as he read my mind. "They'll be happier not knowing." He paused, before squeezing my hand and continuing. "They liked you. You'll be hearing from Celia."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I liked Celia, and was looking forward to getting to know her better, in one way, but I also wasn't sure I was comfortable getting close to Ranger's family, when he'd never really... shared his life. And why wouldn't he tell them he didn't think he was coming back, when he had told me? Except, I remembered, he hadn't told me. I'd figured it out. Did that mean? My thoughts were interrupted as Ranger pulled up in front of a smallish A-frame house, and parked. We were in the middle of nowhere, I'd lost track of how long ago we'd left the city behind. He got out, and came around to open my door. Then he grabbed our bags, slipped my hand into his, and we walked together towards the house.

Ranger unlocked the door, and stepped back for me to go in first. I walked in and got out of the doorway so Ranger could follow. We slipped off our shoes and he nudged me further in, past a kitchen and into a living room. The flooring was all hardwood and the setting...comfortable.

"A safe house?" I asked him, but I had a funny feeling this was too...comfortable... to be a safe house. Cozy-comfortable, instead of just livable-comfortable. Ranger's apartment was livable-comfortable, it just wasn't cozy. This was cozy. It didn't feel like a safe house. I turned to look at Ranger and found him already watching me, something in his expression making me think he was waiting for me to figure out some big puzzle. I glanced around again and my eyes settled on a picture of Julie. I spun back to Ranger.

His eyes danced and he grinned at me.

"Isn't the batcave forever?" I asked, as he stepped towards me.

"Yes." He told me. I stared at him. If the batcave was forever, then does that mean he's offering me forever? But he's leaving in less than 2 days. How can we have forever when he's leaving? My face must have shown my feelings, again, because he cupped my cheek in his hand and kissed me softly. "Don't think about it." He said softly. "Tonight, it's just us."

Just us. No intrusions. No distractions. No real life. Pretend he's not leaving. I knew, looking into his eyes, that he would be doing the same thing. I don't know how I knew, but I did. Maybe I was starting to ESP him. I'm not sure. I don't think, maybe, that it matters. Ranger nudged me in the direction of the bedroom. I glanced around and took in the king size bed...and the picture of me on his bedside table. He put our bags down, then dug into mine, coming out with the dress and shoes he'd packed for me. He placed the dress on the bed and the shoes on the floor, kissed my cheek, and left the room.

I stripped quickly and shimmied into the dress. There wasn't much I could do with my hair, so I slipped on the shoes and walked to the doorway. I leaned on the doorframe and watched Ranger's backside as he selected a CD and popped it into the CD player. He turned around as strains of a song filled the room. I watched as his eyes traveled over my body, and darkened. He stretched a hand out towards me in invitation, and I moved to join him.

"Dance with me." He whispered, as the music began in earnest. I stepped into his arms as my mind registered that the song playing was an instrumental version of Always on my Mind. We didn't so much dance as sway, our bodies molded together, holding onto each other as if we were drowning. I breathed in Ranger's scent and ran a hand through his hair as he kissed my temple.

We didn't get through the first song before I kicked off my shoes, so that I could rest my head on his shoulder properly, burying my face in his neck. His arms tightened around me and he rested his head on top of mine as the songs changed, and another old song I recognized filled the room. Beautiful instrumental strains of The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face started, as we swayed along the living room in the dim lighting of one small lamp. As we danced, pressed tightly together, Ranger maneuvered us slowly towards the bedroom. We were near the doorway when the song was about at its halfway mark. Ranger pulled away slightly, moved one hand to tip my chin up, and claimed my lips in a kiss born of tender emotion. Still kissing me, he continued into the bedroom, never breaking the slow swaying movement of our dance. It was dark in the room, the only light available was filtered in from the living room. As he kissed me, Ranger's hands roamed over my back. He slid the zipper down and then massaged my shoulders as he pushed the straps away. The dress floated to the ground and pooled at my feet. I slid my hands under his sweater, feeling his muscles quiver under my touch. I lifted my hands, raising his sweater. He broke the kiss long enough to help me pull it over his head, and the sweater fell onto my dress as he claimed my lips again. We kissed and touched as the rest of our clothes melted away, and then he was lifting me, placing me on the bed as if I was fragile porcelain.

Instead of joining me, he stood for a long moment, looking down on me, a half-smile playing on his lips. "I've waited a long time to see you on my bed, like that." He said, his voice husky with desire. I reached out a hand and he took it, pressing my palm to his lips, then kissing the pad of each finger. He settled on the bed with me, and we made love long into the night.

I finally fell asleep with my head on his chest, his heartbeat steady against my cheek.

**4 p.m. Feb 21, 14.5 hours**

"Hey. Let's go there!" I tugged on Ranger's hand and pointed at a photo booth. It was one of those ones where you could get a strip of pictures of yourself. We'd been walking hand in hand down the Miami Beach, barefoot, our shoes in our free hands. Ranger looked down at me for a second, and then nodded.

A few minutes later, with Ranger's pocket change somewhat lighter, we ducked out of the booth, two strips of pictures in my hands. He caught me around the waist, and pulled me against him.

"Let's see." He requested. I separated the two strips and looked down, starting to giggle. They were great pictures, little black and whites ranging from a serious faced Ranger and a smiling me, to Ranger grinning lecherously down at me - he was teasing me when that picture was shot, to a few that were surprisingly seductive. I mentally started choosing the ones I wanted to keep, when I realized that that was being selfish. Ranger was the one heading off to some unknown location, facing his life. He needed the memories as much as I did, and it was selfish of me to not allow him first pick. Especially since I'd choose all of the most incredible ones.

"Which ones do you want?" I asked.

"Doesn't matter." Ranger answered from over my shoulder. His arm was still around my waist, his hand splayed across my stomach. "That one, for sure." He pointed to one, taken right after he had blindsided me with a kiss. The look in my eyes was probably sex personified, to Ranger. I started to rip it off, when his hand came up and stopped me. "Actually, I've a better idea." He said, and we continued down the beach.

Ranger found a store with a digital printer, and we got a second copy of the two strips printed, along with a copy of the picture I had of Ranger and I. As we continued down the beach, Ranger slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked. He had finished his business at Rangeman by noon, it had been easy given that he wasn't involved in the daily runnings of the Miami office anyhow. Then we spent the afternoon with Julie, after Ranger told Rachel he was leaving. She was a bright child, cheerful; with a forceful personality that was so much like Ranger it was scary. I could tell Ranger was still thinking of her now, even though we'd met Rachel and dropped her off more than a half hour ago.

"You're proud of her, I hope." I told him. I knew he'd know I was talking about Julie.

"Rachel's raised her well." Ranger responded. That wasn't what I meant, and he knew it. But I guess he isn't willing to talk about it. "Yeah." He finally said. "I'm proud of her."

We walked in silence, each to our own thoughts, eventually reaching the small beach house Ranger owned. I kept my thoughts mostly blank; I couldn't handle the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me every time my mind remembered why I was in Miami with Ranger. As we approached the door, Ranger stopped and turned to me.

"Do you want to eat in, or go out?" He asked.

"Eat in." I answered right away. I didn't want to share him.

"Only you, Babe." He said with a small shake of his head, before letting us into the beach house. I knew what he meant; most women would have jumped at being taken to a classy restaurant for supper. But with so little time left, all I wanted was him to myself. Ranger ordered a pizza, and we cuddled on the couch in silence while we waited for it to be delivered.

After we ate and cleaned up the kitchen, Ranger reached into his pockets and turned to me. "The batcave." He handed me a set of keys. "And this house." He handed me another. "The keys to the cars are in the 7th floor apartment. Anything you need, it's yours." He told me. "Tank is running Rangeman. If you need help or have a problem, go to him. And be careful. Try to stay safe." He finished. I nodded, and he reached, taking me into his arms and kissing me.

We didn't sleep that night. We fell into the bed before the sun set, and made love and held each other until dawn.

**6:15 Feb 23rd. 15 minutes.**

"Don't get up, Babe." He whispered, kissing me as he climbed out of bed. I watched as he dressed, his movements robotic. This was it. In a few short minutes he'd be walking out of this house, and out of my life. I had my return ticket to Trenton for this afternoon, and a Rangeman employee was going to drive me to the airport. Just me. Ranger wouldn't be with me. Probably, I would never see him again. I had to see him off. I lurched out of bed and into the bathroom, did my business quickly and pulled Ranger's robe on. I stepped out as he snapped his gunbelt on with a click that echoed painfully through the room.

My feet were frozen to the ground, and I couldn't go over to him, no matter how hard I willed myself to. He finished checking his gear, and I saw a glimpse of the photographs from yesterday as he flipped quicky through his wallet before tucking it into a pocket. Then he looked up at me, and our eyes locked. My heart was beating violently in my throat, and I couldn't swallow around it. I couldn't breathe. I tried to tell him I loved him, but I couldn't speak.

And then I heard it.

The vehicle pulling up to the curb.

In two strides, Ranger was in front of me, crushing me up against him, kissing me. The kiss was hard and desperate, and filled with his own agony. "I love you." He rasped, his voice harsh and blunt. Then he turned, walked out of the bedroom. I listened as his footsteps receded, and the door slammed shut. I still couldn't move. I turned my head, and watched out the window as he strode down the walkway, his steps evenly paced.

Finally, I found my feet, and before I knew it I was flying, out of the room, through the house, and out the door into the chilly morning. "R-Ranger!" I called, but my voice wouldn't come out any higher than a whisper. I couldn't get his attention, I couldn't call to him. I gasped out a sob. I needed to get his attention, I needed him to come back so I could tell him. How could I do that if I couldn't call out to him, if he couldn't hear me? Desperation pushed me to try again. "Ranger!" I pictured myself yelling, and it came out loud enough for him to hear me. His pace slowed, but he didn't turn around.

He just shook his head. "I can't, Babe. I have to go."

No. He had to stop, and wait, just for a minute. I had to tell him. I swiped angrily at the tears that I couldn't hold at bay anymore. "I love you." I called out, my voice breaking on a sob.

Ranger stopped. Turned. And then suddenly he was in front of me, pulling me tightly into his arms. "Say it again." He demanded, his voice a hoarse, ragged whisper.

"I love you." I mumbled into his neck. I breathed in his scent, as he shifted me slightly to look down into my eyes. "I love you." I said again. His eyes shone with tears he refused to let himself shed. He brushed my hair away from my face, and claimed my lips in one, last, searing kiss. My hand moved up to cup his cheek while we kissed. And then he was stepping back, turning his face into my hand, and kissing my palm.

"Stephanie. I love you, Babe." He whispered, hugging me tightly to him one last time.

"I...love you...too. Stay safe." I fought my own voice, as it threatened to fail me again.

Ranger took a deep breath, then stepped out of my arms and turned. He walked to the vehicle without a backwards glance, but I understood. He opened the door and looked back at me one last time, for the briefest moment, before stepping into the vehicle and closing the door behind himself.

Tears flowing freely down my face, I wrapped my arms around myself and watched as the vehicle drove away, receding in the distance. I knew, to the depths of my heart, that behind the tinted black windows, Ranger was staring back and watching me, too.

Finally, minutes after the vehicle had disappeared, minutes that felt like hours, I turned and walked back into the house. Back in the bedroom, I let Ranger's robe drop to the floor, and I slipped the t-shirt he wore the day before over my head. I crawled back into bed, burying my face in his pillow, breathing in the last traces of his scent that I would ever have. I didn't sleep. And I didn't know how to pick up the pieces left behind.


	2. Picking Up the Pieces Pt1

The sequel to Missing Pieces got rather long. As a result, this will be posted in two parts.

Thank you to Stayce for all of your wonderful help and editing! And for the title!

As always, I own nothing, just borrowed them from the wonderful JE. No real warnings required…beyond the obvious.

Picking Up the Pieces 

**8 a.m. Jan 9th, 4 years later**

It was a fairly quiet morning, Trenton lights glowing over relatively empty streets, dawn only just beginning. He stepped out of the cab and handed the driver a hundred. A big tip. He hadn't told anyone he was back, hadn't called for a ride from the airport. He walked across the old, familiar parking lot, his shoulders square and body vigilant; hyper-aware of his surroundings. He scanned the vehicles in the lot, but knew he had no hope of picking out hers. She never kept a vehicle long. It was just one of those strokes of bad luck she had. He entered the building and swung left into the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time. Soon, he would see her. He hoped she'd be happy to see him. A

He knocked four times on the door, and waited. It was only 8 a.m., so he waited a bit longer than usual, knowing she might not be up yet. He could hear footsteps inside, but they didn't sound like hers. He remembered how she walked, the cadence of her footfalls. It was seared into his memory. And this didn't sound like them. He was frowning slightly when the locks clicked and the door swung open, revealing a frail older man.

His gaze shot to the number on the door, then to the old man, his eyebrows raised. "Is..." He cleared his throat with a frustrated cough. He was unused to speaking, nowadays, and hated the raspiness of his voice. "I'm sorry; I must have mistaken the apartment number. I'm looking for Stephanie Plum."

"The Bombshell Bounty Hunter?" The old man's eyes lit up. "She used to live here, they tell me. Isn't that neat? I live in an apartment once occupied by a famous person!"

"Where is she now?" He asked, trying to hold on to his patience. The last thing he wanted or needed was to hear stories about how famous his Babe was.

"Gone, man. Gone. The Bombshell Bounty Hunter is no more."

"What to you mean, Gone? Where'd she go? Did she leave a forwarding address? How long ago?" He snapped, then shook his head hard. He hadn't meant to bite the man's head off.

"Gone. She was gone before I moved in, over three years ago. Left all of her furniture, even. It sold for big money, because it was owned by the Bombshell. I kept the bed. I sleep on a famous person's bed." He grinned cheerfully. "I still have some of her plates and glasses available, though. Do you want one? Hundred bucks for a coffee cup. It marks an era, man."

"No thanks." He shook his head, then turned and left, ignoring the old man still calling to him from the open door. Where was his Babe? Gone? What had happened while he was away? Halfway down the stairwell he stopped and sat heavily on the stairs, breathing heavily, his heart beating with the force of a sledgehammer in the base of his stomach. Could it mean...? She'd promised him she'd be careful. She couldn't be gone. She said she'd be careful, dammit! He railed silently in to himself, his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. How could she be gone? How did it happen? Was it one of her skips? Did a psycho get to her? He'd find out, and whoever was responsible would live to regret it, badly, before they died, horribly. He felt the anger bubble, then suppressed it. It would do him no good now. He stood and made his way down the rest of the stairs, and out of the building, before pacing the parking lot.

He tried to think of who to call to find out what happened. Not the cop … wait ... could she maybe, just maybe, have actually married him? He had never managed to envision them married. The thought made his heart ache, but if she was alive, and happy, then he could handle it. He walked to the nearest payphone booth, and searched out the cop's number. Flipping his new phone open, he dialed and waited while it rang, four, then five times before clicking to a machine. "Hi, you've reached Joe and Nina Morelli. We're unable to-" He hung up. His babe wasn't there. He leaned against the phone booth wall and ran a hand over his head. He couldn't call her family, he couldn't do that to them, if she was gone, remind them, ask about her as if she was there. He didn't know who else to call, but Tank. But then they'd know he was back. He wasn't ready for that. The exhaustion, the burnout, the strain of his experiences were all so prominent that he wanted...no, needed...a break. He had planned on seeing his Babe, and then going off the radar for a time. Hopefully with her.

But now she was gone, and he had to find out what happened to her. His only choice was Tank. He flipped his phone back open and dialed Tank's old cell number, hoping against hope that it hadn't changed.

"Someone better be dead." Tank growled, answering on the 3rd ring. "I just worked double shifts cleaning up everyone's fucking messes. Phone Lester." The phone clicked in his ear as his right-hand man hung up on him. Without pause, he hit redial.

"I don't know who the hell you are, asshole, but-"

"What happened to Stephanie?" He said, his words deliberate, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Excuse me? Who the hell is..." Tank started, then choked audibly. "Ranger? That you, man?"

"Where's Steph, what happened to her? Is she dead?" He asked again, firing questions. He leaned hard against the wall as he braced himself physically and emotionally.

"Steph's gone. Moved on about 3 months after you left." Tank answered, sounding slightly puzzled. "Where are you?"

"Moved on. Is she alive?" He asked, swallowing hard.

"Yeah, buddy, she's alive. Of course she's alive. We'd never let anything happen to her. Where are you?" Tank repeated again, questioning, confused.

He sank against the wall, sliding down it to the floor. She was alive. His Babe was alive. He said a brief, silent prayer, thanking every God there could possibly be.

"Ranger? You still there?"

"Where'd she go? Why?"

"I think that's for her to tell you." Tank answered after a moment.

"She marry someone?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Listen man, where ARE you? Are you back?"

"You talkin' to Batman, baby? Cause if anyone else is interruptin' your important sleep, ol Lula's gonna make em wish they were dead." He heard Lula's voice in the background, giving him time to get his head back together to answer. He listened as Tank answered in the affirmative, placating her. "He gonna go see my girl?" She demanded.

"Can you get me her number?" Tank asked her, his voice filtering over the phone. "Thanks Baby Doll. Boss?"

"Yeah. What's her number?" He asked, then wrote it down as Tank read out the numbers. "Thanks, man."

"Ranger. Are you in Trenton?"

"This is a Miami number."

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"I don't know. She's working for Rangeman." He offered. "Where are you? Trenton?"

Ranger shook his head hard, registering that his long-time friend was asking him questions. His brain was a fog, with only thoughts of Stephanie seeping through. He ached to hold her, needed to feel her body molded in his arms, her perfect body fitting against his as if it was made for him. "Yeah. Going to Miami, though."

"Where are you? I'll give you a ride to the airport."

"Go back to sleep. I'll manage."

"I'm already up and dressed. Where do I pick you up?"

"Steph's old apartment." He answered, and the phone clicked in his ear again. Ten minutes later, a black Rangeman SUV pulled up to the curb. He slid into the passenger side, and Tank was pulling away from the curb before the door was fully closed. He pulled his seatbelt on and leaned back against the seat. Both were silent for a little while.

"It was bad." Tank finally commented.

"I shouldn't be alive." Ranger admitted. He'd forgotten how perceptive Tank was. But then, he'd taught them. Be aware of your surroundings. Always. Watch people. Read them. Of course he'd notice. And better than anyone, he knew. "It's done."

"When are you going to be back at Rangeman? You look like you need some R&R."

"Not sure. I'll call you."

Tank nodded. "Call just to keep in touch, too. Make sure Steph calls Lula. She'll want to hear from her." They lapsed into silence.

"What's up with you and Lula?" He asked after a long while.

"Married. Got a boy. 9 months now." The pride in Tank's voice was unmistakable. And Ranger was glad for his friend.

"Congratulations."

Tank hesitated for a moment, then spoke up again, his voice soft. "We named him Carlos."

**5 p.m. Jan 9th. **

It was grey and dismal, and pouring rain, when the plain touched down in Miami. He managed to get a cab immediately, and he was grateful. He gave the driver directions to the beach house, and leaned back in the seat, his two bags beside him. He dug into his pocket and located Stephanie's number, staring down at it. Miami. Why did she move to Miami? Why did she leave her family? He had so many questions, and he was concerned. He would go shower, get cleaned up, and then he'd call her, he decided. And hopefully she'd answer, and he'd see her tonight. Otherwise, he'd spend his entire day hunting her down tomorrow. Come what may, he was going to find her, and quickly. He'd even go to Rangeman and announce his return if he had to. He hadn't fought his way to hell and back, even when everyone else faltered, just to lose her presence in his life now. The memory of her had lured him through, given him the strength to defy death when it was staring him in the face.

He was glad she was working for Rangeman. Even when he wasn't here, even when she thought he was never coming back, she still turned to him for help. At least, he thought, that's what it felt like. He really hoped he got a hold of her tonight. After thinking he'd hold her in his arms that morning, each passing hour was a jolt in his heart. He ached to hold her, to see her, to touch her hair. He remembered the way she gave herself to him, those last three days. And her _I love you_ still sounded in his ears.

Traffic was busy and the ride to the beach house was slow. He found himself wondering why she had left Trenton, what could possibly have caused her to come all the way to Miami, where she knew no one, had no one. He couldn't come up with a single valid reason, not even by the time the cab turned one final corner, approaching the drive to the house. Gathering his two bags closer to himself, he looked out the window, his thoughts still on the best way to approach Steph, the best thing to say when she answered the phone. Maybe just 'Babe', he mused. If he remembered right, there was a laptop at the beach house. It would serve well to try and locate an address to go with her phone number. But then, if it were that easy, wouldn't Tank know where she lived? He reminded himself. He'd tackle that one after his shower, he decided.

As the house came into view, he noticed a light on in the kitchen area. Without thought, he narrowed his eyes and reached for the larger of his two bags. Unzipping it, he pulled out his gun belt and reached around himself, snapping it into place. The cab driver glanced into the mirror and his eyes widened.

"Hey, man, I don't want no trouble." He said, shaking his head rapidly.

"Neither do I. This has nothing to do with you." He said. The cabby stopped at the end of the drive, still shaking his head. "I don't wanna drive up there. I don't wanna know what you're doing."

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you." He replied, handing a hundred over the seat. "Keep the change." Another big tip. Opening the door, he slid out and then grabbed both bags in one hand. No sooner was the door shut than the cabby peeled out. Standing at the edge of the drive, he ignored the pounding rain and stared at the kitchen light and the black Rangeman SUV parked outside, as comprehension dawned. He started up the driveway, each step steady and measured, pacing himself as he went through conscious exercises designed to regulate his breathing and his heart rate. He could feel his heart pounding, with strength that indicated its desire to escape out of the confines of his chest, and he disliked the lack of control.

But oh, he knew why. Only one person could affect him like this. "Babe." He whispered, his stride lengthening despite himself. He didn't even feel the rain seeping through his clothing, drenching him to the skin. His renowned focus was directed on one thing: The door of the house, and behind it, his Babe. And she was _his._ She was in his house, that could only mean that she was still his. His. His hand shook, taking him by surprise. He took a steadying breath, then let it out as he willed his body to relax, to defy anticipation. He stepped slowly, deliberately up the two steps onto the porch, set his bags down, and straightened. This was it. He contemplated his choices for a minute. It was his house, but just walking in would probably scare her. And he didn't want to do that to her. There was only one thing he could do, only one thing left standing between him and his Babe.

He took a steadying breath, and rapped once, sharply, on the door.

**6:10 p.m. Jan 9th**

"Coming!" She called from the kitchen. Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember if she was expecting anyone. Very few people knew she lived there. Probably just some passer-by, she mused. Someone whose car broke down and needed the phone. That in mind, she stopped by her cookie jar, pulled her gun out and checked the magazine and safety before sticking it in the waistband of her jeans. Then, she grabbed the cordless off of the side table in the living room, as she headed towards the door. She was never unprepared anymore, she thought, as she glanced back into the living room. She wished, not for the first time, that the door had a peep hole. Probably she oughta talk to Luiz, the head of Rangemen Miami, about getting one installed. She'd do that tomorrow, she decided, coming to a stop on the other side.

Caution prompted her to tuck the phone under her right arm. She pulled her gun out, clicked the safety off, and held it low in her right hand. Reaching out with her left hand, she turned the knob and cracked the door. Spotting the black clothing and all-too familiar gun belt, she clicked the safety back on her gun, and swung the door wide with a smile.

"Luiz, what brings -" Her eyes widened, as her voice failed her. Her fingers let go of the gun, and she reacted instantly, grasping at it, the phone clattering to the ground as she did. She slipped the gun in her waistband at the small of her back, then stood, motionless, trying to make sense of the man standing in front of her. She was frozen, couldn't blink, couldn't think. Could it be? Was she seeing things? "Omigod." she whispered, almost inaudibly, even while her mind screamed it. Was he? Really? She couldn't hold a thought, couldn't believe her eyes weren't lying to her. He wasn't saying anything, wasn't moving. She was dreaming. Oh God, she was dreaming. If he was real, he'd talk to her, right? He'd say something. Anything. No, not anything. He'd say 'Babe.' But he wasn't. He was silent. He was looking directly into her eyes, his own shuttered. She barely felt her racing heart, but she could feel the blood draining from her head as her heart sucked it back down, to pool somewhere in her stomach, like lead.

Suddenly she jerked, as little hands wrapped around her leg. "Mommy." A small voice whispered. In front of her disbelieving eyes, the apparition glanced down, and his face drained of color. Now, she thought with a sudden burst of hysteria, they were both pasty, white as death. Bending down, she picked her daughter up and sat her on her hip. The child leaned against her, molding her small body to her chest, resting her head on her shoulder and shoving one thumb in her mouth. "Whosit?" the child asked in a barely-there whisper.

"Shhh.." she shushed on a shallow breath, placing one hand over the head of dark, silken curls. She scanned the form of the man in front of her, from his toes to his head. Her mouth opened and closed, and then again. Finally she got her voice working again, and said the only thing that came to mind, the one word spinning over and over, taking everything else away from her. "R--Ranger?" She whispered, her voice hoarse. He looked away from the child, and his eyes met hers.

"Babe." He finally said, so soft she could barely hear him. She swallowed convulsively once, twice, and a third time, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat that wouldn't let her speak, wouldn't let her breathe.

He had thought that nothing, no reason for Steph to have moved, could shock him. He had never once, consciously, considered the sight that met him at the door. And why was she waiting for Luiz? Were they...? He'd ask later. Right now, it was all he could do to take in the sight of her. Her hair, spilling out of a messy pony tail. The baggy jeans and ragged sweatshirt. She had never looked more beautiful, to him. And the little person perched on her hip. His little person. He saw it right away. His eyes, his mouth, his hair color, molded into her wild, beautiful curls. Their child. He had never been so speechless, and his heart had never swelled so big with so much love and pride, in his lifetime of memories. It was all he could do to drink in the sight in front of him, to recognize it for reality.

He was so wrapped up in the vision that was his woman...his women...that he lost awareness of everything else, including the chill of the driving rain, until he shivered involuntarily. He was soaked to the bone, he realized. "Babe. Can I come in out of the rain?" He watched as her eyes, already wide as a startled doe's, got even bigger.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I didn't realize. I didn't notice. I'm sorry, Ranger. Ranger." Her speech was jerky as she stepped back and sideways out of the doorway, giving him room to come in. He picked up both bags and stepped inside, putting them back down then closing the door behind himself. As it shut, he turned back to her, tracing her form with his eyes. "You'll want a shower. To warm up." She continued to babble. "You're clothes are still in the bedroom. Here, I'll take the bags. I was just making some dinner." She gently set the little girl on the floor, and the child backed away until she was against the wall, looking small and overwhelmed. He felt a tugging in his heart as he watched her. His eyes turned back up to Stephanie as she chattered mindlessly in broken sentences. "I hope you don't mind us living here. I needed somewhere. I didn't think. I thought you. Wouldn't mind. Maybe. I-"

"Babe." He said, stopping her short. "It's ok." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but he didn't know for sure; he couldn't seem to keep track of his own emotions. He'd never had that problem before. Except, he admitted to himself, around Stephanie. He would take the time in the shower to get his head together, he decided, as he followed her down the hall towards the bedroom and bathroom. She ducked into the bedroom with his bags, and he headed into the bathroom.

He glanced around, noting the bucket of bath toys in the corner by the tub. He looked through the bottles on the ledges, kid shampoo, his Babe's stuff. No Bulgari. He noticed the missing shower gel right away. He turned as he felt her presence enter the room. She stepped straight to the closet and dug around for a minute, coming out with his shower gel and two clean towels...

"Surprised you have that." He commented. He didn't know what to say. He'd never had THAT problem before, either. He may have been a man of few words, but he always knew what to say. Until today.

"I...I couldn't... Bear to. I don't know. It's just...It was yours, you know?" She stammered through her explanation, making him want even more to pull her into his arms, hold her close to him. Not yet, he reminded himself. Not yet. Give her a little time. Let her get used to his being in the house, first. "I'll let you shower, now." She said, handing him the stuff.

He watched as she turned to leave the bathroom, then stopped and turned back. She reached out and touched his arm. Nobody had touched him in a long time, and he had to consciously school himself not to react. "You're real." she breathed.

He looked down at her, his lips quirking up in a hint of a smile. "Yeah," He said softly, trailing a finger down her cheek in a gentle caress. "I'm real." She gave him the barest, sweetest, saddest smile, then turned and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. He stared at the closed door for long moment, before stripping his wet clothes and stepping into the shower.

She sagged against the wall, unable to hold herself up. She could still feel the searing heat of his touch, feel his finger on her skin, where he'd touched her. Ohh, he felt just like himself. And she missed him so much. She had needed him so much. She could scarcely believe her eyes. Her senses. She didn't dare believe them. As the shower started, she gave her head a hard shake. She didn't have time to sit around freaking out. She had a child to feed, and a guest for supper. No...Not a guest. Ranger. Was it too much to hope that he was real, and that he was staying? She didn't know. She didn't dare hope. She inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly before pushing off from the wall and heading back into the kitchen to finish preparing supper. Thank goodness the lasagna was in the oven with a timer, she thought. Otherwise it'd be burnt to a crisp by now. She pulled her gun out of her waistband and tucked it back into the cookie jar, before rummaging through the fridge. She was pretty sure she had lettuce somewhere. She'd make a salad. He'd like that. She usually did have vegetables in the fridge, now. She had started eating properly when she was pregnant, and kept it up on principle afterwards. She was going to raise his child right, raise his child so he'd be proud of her, even if he never saw her. She'd told herself that over and over, especially when it got so hard to go on without him.

In no time, she heard the shower stop. He still showers quickly; he still works so efficiently, she thought to herself. She looked into the corner, at the little girl who was sitting on the floor playing with ponies and dolls. She was happy and out of mischief. She turned back to the bread she had been working on when she had left to answer the door, smearing garlic butter and preparing it for the oven. She was just finishing with it when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she felt him step into the room.

"What's her name?" He asked quietly.

She turned, and ran her gaze over his body. She still didn't trust her eyes. She didn't know if she ever would. "You're staying for supper, right?" She asked hesitantly.

He nodded. "What's did you name her?" He repeated, glancing away from her and at the little girl, who had wandered into the living room and was staring at a picture on the small table by the couch.

"Kyla. Kyla Leigh Manoso" She whispered, and watched as his eyes softened and he smiled, then nodded. Before he could see the shine of tears in her eyes, she turned back to the counter. She didn't know what to say, so she just grabbed a third plate, and glass, and added them to the two already on the counter.

He could feel her tension as he watched her move around the kitchen. He'd never seen her domestic. Never thought she could be. Then his eye caught the box in the garbage. Ahh... Of course. That was his Babe. He couldn't help but smile. He looked down then as the child came to stand in front of him. She looked at him, without saying a word. He really wasn't sure what to do or say to her, so he just offered her a gentle smile. She stared at him seriously, lips pursed, then ran back to the living room to look at the picture on the table. It was a picture of him, he noticed. Then she was in front of him again, staring up, her eyes fiercely serious.

"Kyla what are you doing?" Stephanie called as the girl ran back to look at the picture for a third time.

"Nothing, mommy." She called back.

"Yeah." Her voice took on a wry note. "We all know what 'nothing' means. Ranger? What's she doing?" He swung his eyes to her back, surprised she asked him so quickly. As if it was second nature. He noticed, too, that she was chopping lettuce. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

"She's ok, Babe." When his gaze settled on her small form again, she was reaching carefully and pulling the picture off of the table. She looked down on it a minute, and even in profile he could see the furrow in her brow, the same one his Babe got when she was thinking too hard. Clutching the picture carefully in her little hands, she made her way to stand in front of him, looking up at him again.

"Daddy?" She asked in a small, hesitant voice. He nodded.

"Yeah."

His daughter looked back down at the picture, then hugged it to her chest and looked him in the eye, her face a study of seriousness. "Mommy cries." She informed him, then turned and ran to the living room, ducking behind the couch.

**8 p.m. Jan 9th**

She tucked Kyla in before sitting on the side of her bed to read her a story. She could feel his presence in the doorway, and couldn't help but briefly wonder why she hadn't felt it when he was on the other side of the door, in the rain. But then, she guessed, she did feel it, it was just dull... or... or maybe it was more that she shoved it off...that she was getting tired of the false hope. She could scarcely believe he was really here, even after the dinner they'd shared, even after he'd helped her clean the kitchen with quiet efficiency. She was terrified that she'd turn around and he'd be gone again. She couldn't bear it.

Finally, she set the book down and kissed her sleeping daughter on the forehead, then tucked the special-forces dressed bear she bought her under the crook of one little arm. Kyla always slept with it. She had told her...well...She had told her that her daddy's spirit was in that bear. She had told her all about her daddy. How could she not? She couldn't say that talking about him helped her...mostly it made her miss him even more. But she knew her daughter needed to know her father. He was such a good man; she couldn't deny the girl that, no matter how much it hurt her to talk about him. No matter how much she missed him. Shaking off her thoughts, she stole one last look at the little girl's sleeping face, framed in rich brown curls. She choked on the lump that rose, once again, in her throat.

Looking up, she met the eyes of the enigma in the doorway, watching her...their daughter. She blinked past the tears that flooded her eyes and brushed past him, escaping into the bathroom and locking the door, stealing a brief moment of privacy to attempt to decipher truth from fiction, reality from fantasy. Was he really here? Or did she just want him back so badly, still...was she just so unable to handle life without him anymore, that maybe she imagined his presence so vividly that even Kyla could see it?

Or worse, was he gone? Was it his ghost? His spirit? She didn't think she could handle it if she was beginning to see ghosts, she thought. Nope. She couldn't come close to coping with that. She took a breath, attempting to pull herself together. She was doing nobody any good if she fell apart. She splashed some water on her face and left the bathroom, heading back to the living room and kitchen, finding them empty. She gulped back a sob as the emptiness surrounded her, stole away her breath and crushed her, suffocating her. Choking on tears and her heart, all lumped together in her throat; she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill in the room. It was her worst nightmare. He wasn't real. He was gone. She was still alone. She sat down heavily on the couch, her hands in her lap, as the pain washed over her again.

No, she reminded herself. She wasn't alone. She had her daughter. Their daughter. His daughter. Oh, how she wished he could see her. That he could have seen her. The perfection of her skin, the way she was a perfect mix of both of them. That hair, with her wild curls and his rich color and texture... That creamy light mocha skin that was an exact middle ground to theirs. The quiet, stoic manner that the sweet child most surely didn't get from her. And a zest for adventure acquired for both of them. His eyes. His mouth. His serious little expression. She seemed, sometimes, sad. But probably, Stephanie admitted, that was her fault. Because she missed him so much. And though Kyla was so young, she most definitely had his ESP...his ability to pick up on the slightest change in mood, in atmosphere around her.

She never thought it was a mistake, she admitted to herself. It had caused the final break between Joe and her, surely, but she never for a minute thought it was a mistake. An accident, it most definitely was, but never a mistake. If she couldn't have him, if she had to lose him forever... then what gift more precious than his daughter? Even to her, a woman who never wanted a child of her own, who could barely take proper care of a hamster.

And, she had to admit, that she sometimes wondered if he knew, or suspected, that a child would result from their three final nights together. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he really did know that he was leaving her bearing the beginnings of his legacy. She wondered, sometimes, if it wasn't his way of making sure she had a reason to go on.

A murmur of Spanish drifted down the hall, interrupting her from her thoughts. Her stomach twisted. She didn't want to go see. Maybe Kyla was talking in her sleep. Her aunt Celia liked to teach her Spanish. But the tone wasn't a child's tone, the voice all wrong. Stephanie shivered. She was hearing his voice. God help her. She couldn't do this anymore. Then it was silent again, as she sat rigid on the couch, clenching and unclenching her hands, trying to rein in her emotions. The rain increased in intensity and she could hear it, a strong and steady staccato on the roof. She took a breath, and then another, and stood. Trepidation resonated through her body as she forced each step down the hall. She told herself, over and over, that it was just like any other night. She was just going to check on her daughter, and then she was going to bed. Early. To not sleep. She never slept. And then, in bed, she could cry.

She reached the doorway and his presence hit her full force. She sagged against the frame and stared into the room, disbelieving her eyes even then, even after his being there the entire evening. He was sitting, gingerly, on the side of the bed; looking down at their daughter's sleeping form. His hand was hovering lightly, as if he wanted to touch her but didn't dare. As if he, too, felt he was dreaming. His face as typically blank, but lines of stress and exhaustion accentuated his eyes and mouth. She heard a whimper, but never registered it to be hers. He glanced up, and their eyes met. And then, suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

He stood, and silently crossed the room to stand in front of her. Without speaking, he took her gently into his arms, kissing the top of her head as he enfolded her in his embrace. She leaned into him, burying her face in his neck, and let her tears fall.

His hands were everywhere, rubbing her back, and down her arms, holding her tightly, massaging her shoulders. She didn't register that they were moving, but when she finally, finally turned her face away from his neck, her sobs having quieted to sniffles, she found them to be in the middle of the living room.

"Didn't want to wake Kyla." He touched their palms together, then laced his fingers with hers and stepped back, giving her a searching look. "You look tired, Babe." He commented, his voice gentle.

"I don't sleep much, anymore." She admitted softly. She hadn't slept well, properly, or for more than a few short hours at a time since...oh... since he left, really.

"Am I welcome to stay here?"

He had to ask? She was in his house, HIS house, and he was asking if he was welcome here? "Of course." She answered, once she'd found her voice. Then, she bit her lip as her mind got the better of her. "Do...Do you want to stay here?"

"More than anything." He answered, pulling her back into his arms as her eyes filled, and spilled over again.

A minute later she pulled back, stepping out of his arms and raising a hand to swipe her face. Before she could, though, he reached out, bringing her back close to him, and cupped her face in his hands, wiping her eyes with his thumbs. She bit her lip, fighting herself. She would not cry again, she told herself. She wasn't going to waste her precious time with him with tears. And she didn't dare ask how long he planned to stay for. Close up, she realized how exhausted he looked. And, as always, he seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Let's go to bed." He suggested. She didn't trust her voice yet, so she just nodded, and then ducked into the bathroom while he shut lights and checked doors and windows. When she walked out, a few minutes later, he was standing in the doorway to Kyla's room again. He glanced back at her, then pulled the door part way shut and stepped towards her. He kissed her cheek and stepped past her, into the bathroom.

She stepped, deliberately towards the bedroom, and once she was there, she sat at the foot of the bed and stared down at his bags. A minute later she heard the water stop and he walked into the bedroom. He stopped, sliding a hand through her curls in a silent caress before lifting his bags to the bed and starting to unpack them.

She sat silently, unable to take her eyes off of him as he pulled out an armload of clothes and headed for the closet. Did she dare believe his unpacking meant he was back, with her, to stay? No, she didn't dare hope. It would hurt too much if she were wrong.

"Babe." His voice broke the silence, startling her. He turned from where he had been sifting through the closet, and regarded her with a peculiar expression on his face. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but found herself at a loss for words. She gave up and snapped her mouth shut, waiting for him to clarify. He looked at her for a long moment before finishing. "These are mine." He indicated the clothing behind him.

"W-well..." she stammered as she tried to rein in her reeling mind. "Yeah. I couldn't just pack them away, you know? In case you came back. It's your house. It wouldn't have been right... I couldn't... I didn't want..."

"Babe." She didn't know how, but he was suddenly in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, forehead against hers. She could feel his breath on her face, and couldn't stop a whimper from escaping her constricted throat. "You weren't supposed to put your life on hold. You aren't the type to live in the past."

She choked, then coughed to clear her throat. "I wasn't. I..it's just...you can live your life, but not lose hope, you know? Packing them away...in your house...felt like giving up." She took a breath. "I tried, a couple of times." She admitted as she exhaled. "I couldn't do it. We hadn't heard otherwise. I couldn't lose hope that someday, you'd come back. That someday Kyla would meet her father."

He was quiet for a minute, as they leaned against each other, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, breathing the same air. Eventually he shifted and pressed his lips to her temple. "Kyla. She's beautiful, Babe. Thank you. Proud of you." He murmured against her skin, before moving away and finishing hanging the last of his clothing. She stayed seated on the bed. Oh, how she'd missed hearing his voice, that unique, empowering tone that always appeared when he verbalized his pride, his acceptance.

"You going to get ready for bed?" He asked softly. She startled, then jerked to her feet.

"Yeah. I am. Yeah." She quickly moved to the head of the bed, turning down the covers. Bed. That's right. That's why they were in there, after all. She flicked on the bedside lamp, and shivered as Ranger turned out the light, casting the room in a very soft glow.

At the closet, she dug around, coming up with a pair of shorts and a knit tank top. She straightened in time to see Ranger pull his shirt off. He was oh-so thin, she thought... so much thinner than before, and even in the dim lighting she could see new scars. She fought back another wave of tears. No way was she going to cry again. Then the full realization of what was happening hit her. She was going to bed. With Ranger. With Ranger wearing probably only the silk boxers in his hand. After four years apart. Sex was inevitable, wasn't it? Required, even. But was it right? Could she handle the intimacy tonight? Would it be the same? Different? Oh, she wanted it, already she felt the desire for him pool low in her belly...but what if she woke up in the morning and it was only a dream? Wouldn't it hurt more if she'd slept with him, been that close? Wouldn't it be easier to find out it was a dream if they didn't...? What did he expect? Did he expect her to? He...She... Oh God. She didn't know what to... And...Omigod, he's in front of me, she suddenly realized. She jerked as his hand closed over her shoulder, and he squeezed, preventing her from bolting. Oh, but she wanted to run away right now. Needed to. How could she sort this out when he was so close?

"Steph." He gave her a half smile. "I smell something burning. It'll be ok. One step at a time. Breathe, Babe." She nodded and took a breath, and then another. "Just breathe." He murmured, pulling her into his arms, cradling her head against his bare chest, and rubbing easy circles down her back. "I'm sorry, Steph." he whispered after a minute. "I know this is a shock, that there was no warning. I know it's hard."

"Yeah." She gave a small laugh, pulling away a very little bit to look up into his face. Oh, his face, so beloved, so close to her, finally. "I...I'm glad, though. I can hardly believe you're real. Don't leave, ok?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you." She whispered, then stepped away and quickly changed. When she was done, he'd also stripped down and changed into his black silk boxers. Her stomach flipped and flurried, nerves dancing together, as she scanned his body, then met his eyes.

"You're too thin." He told her. The same could be said for him, she thought. He was far too thin. "You eat about as much as you sleep, don't you?"

"Kyla keeps me hopping. I just get busy." She shrugged. It wasn't a big deal, really. He regarded her with narrowed eyes, but dropped the subject. That probably means he'll tackle the issue later, she thought. Great. Oh well.

Together they crawled into bed, and he immediately reached for her, drawing her into his arms, tucking her tightly against his body. He let out a breath as his entire body relaxed. She couldn't relax, though. Her heart pounded, her mind was spinning. She daren't close her eyes, in case he disappeared when she did. He could, after all, if she was dreaming. And if-

"Babe." He said softly, interrupting her jumbled thoughts. She looked up at him, into a gaze filled with more tenderness than she thought possible. Slowly, he reached over and cupped her cheek, bringing his lips gently down on hers. At first he kissed her in short, gentle caresses, before his tongue came out to gently trace her lips, seeking entrance, finding it. She sighed deep in her throat as their tongues touched. The kiss was long, lingering, filled with tender love and emotion, so subtle, yet so strong...strong enough it overwhelmed her. Eventually he broke the kiss, and touched his lips to her temple as rolled onto his back, and then settled her back down against him. He held her tightly to him, making her feel safer, more secure, more...cherished than she had in such a very long time.

"Ranger. Carlos. I love you." She whispered.

"Love you... too... Babe." He mumbled, before his breathing slowed, and he was asleep. She curled against him; his heart beat strong against her cheek, and relished the feel of him. She prayed that it was real this time, that he wasn't just a dream. She didn't sleep that night.

**6:45 a.m. Jan 10th**

"Mommy." A small voice whispered. He was already half-awake, and he opened one eye to glance over towards the voice. Ah, his daughter. Their daughter. His chest swelled. This child would steal his heart. How could she not? She was, after all, Stephanie's. And his. Theirs. "Mommy." She whispered again, patting the bed with her hand. "Daddy's in your bed."

"Shhhh." he shushed her, raising a finger to his mouth. "Mommy's sleeping." And he knew she hadn't slept at all until barely a half hour ago. His own sleep patterns for the last four years were set so that he was aware of everything, all the time. As he'd ride the wave closer to conscious awareness, he always knew she wasn't sleeping. She'd only barely drifted off, as far as he could tell, and he wasn't about to let her be woken yet. She raised her eyes and looked directly at him. "You're in mommy's bed."

Carefully, he slid out from underneath her body, feeling bereft at the loss of contact, at the loss of the feel of her body, moulding perfectly to his, as if they were made to fit together, two parts of a puzzle. Gentle, he caressed her hair before covering her to her chin with blankets.

"Mmm... Ranger. Stay." she mumbled.

"Kyla's up. Sleep Babe." He murmured, then kissed her softly before hastily throwing on his clothes from the previous evening and moving over to crouch down in front of the little girl. "Let's let mommy sleep, ok?" He suggested. She nodded, and allowed him to take her hand and lead her from the room. She followed him like a puppy while he found a pen and paper, and scrawled a quick note. He placed a finger to his lips, so Kyla would be quiet, and then went back into the bedroom, leaving the note by her pillow. She had been so scared she'd wake up and find him gone, that he didn't want her to really experience it. The note, at least, would keep her from worrying about him or Kyla.

"Why don't we find you some clothes, and then start breakfast for when mommy wakes up?" He asked his daughter. His daughter. She amazed him. The little girl nodded seriously, still not speaking. They made their way into her bedroom, and he rummaged through the dresser, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt that he thought should be warm enough for her. He turned around and regarded her for a minute. Did she dress herself? Or should he dress her? Finally he reached towards her, for the hem of her nightshirt, but she pushed his hand away.

"I can do it." she whispered. He nodded and put the clothes down on the bed. He watched for a minute as she pulled her shirt over her head, struggling for a minute before succeeding. Then he left, into the kitchen to see what there was to maybe make for breakfast.

A few minutes later, breakfast located and left to start after Steph got up, he decided he'd better check on his daughter. His daughter. It was going to take some time to get used to that idea. Kyla wasn't just his daughter, but she was HIS daughter, with Stephanie. And that, to him, was more precious than anything in the world. Stepping into her room, he found her sitting on the bed, fully dressed with her Special Forces bear on her lap, hugged tightly. She looked up at him, and he moved to kneel in front of her, fixing each crooked and backwards sock carefully before sitting on the bed beside her.

A minute later, she reached over, placing the bear in his lap, then scrambling off the bed. As she stood in front of him, he realized her shirt was on backwards and her pants were inside out. How did she manage that? He sighed inwardly, then decided to just leave it. Stephanie could deal with redressing her...at least she was wearing clothes suitable for the day. He looked down at the brown bear in his lap, and then back at his daughter.

"Mommy says Cuddles is you."

**8:30 a.m. Jan 10th **

She woke with a jerk, finding herself in an empty bed, and her stomach twisted. He had been nothing but a dream. A dream so vivid she could still feel the weight of his arm around her, smell the faintest whiff of Bulgari. Oh, how she feared this. She fought back the tears, Kyla would be..."Omigod, Kyla!" She gasped, bolting up in the bed. It was way too light out; she should have been up hours ago. Kyla never, EVER, slept in. She was up by 7, at the latest, like clockwork. Her father's daughter. It was way too late. A glance at the clock confirmed this, and she flew out of the bed. In her haste, she disturbed a sheet of paper, and it twirled into the air, then fluttered to the floor, unnoticed as she rushed out of the room.

Her daughter's room was empty, and she hurried to the empty living room, then started through it, towards the kitchen. Before reaching the doorway, though, she spotted Kyla's dark head of curls outside. The small girl was sitting in the sand, chattering softly to herself and playing. And standing in the shade under a palm tree, watching her daughter intently as she played in the sand, was the man who haunted her heart and her dreams. She locked her eyes on him as she stepped out the patio doors, onto the small deck, then down the stairs. At the foot of the stairs, her bare feet sinking into the cool sand, she stopped, and stared. She knew he sensed her presence, and a minute later he turned away from Kyla and looked directly at her, meeting her eyes. He stretched out one arm towards her, and her heart clenched.

"You're real." She whispered, and her face broke into a smile so wide it stretched her face almost painfully. And then suddenly she was moving, running towards him, her body reacting without conscious command. He held his arms out towards her, and she threw herself at him, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arm reaching over his shoulders, circling around his head, fingers tangling in his hair. "Ranger!" She gasped. "You're real! Oh, you're real, you're real." she repeated, over and over, as she rained kisses on his face, meeting his lips, sinking into him as he kissed her back, his arms locked around her like steel bands, holding her gently and tightly at same time, as if she was porcelain, as if he feared she would slip away.

"I'm real, Babe." He breathed in between kisses, then caught her lips again. Sheer joy filtered in, and she couldn't breathe for it. Her eyes filled, and a tear fell, landing on Ranger's cheek. He traced her lips with his tongue, then pulled away slightly to look up at her. He moved one hand, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head and frowned. "I can't believe I'm being such a baby."

"Never be sorry." He told her, his voice gruff. Her eyes widened as he gifted her with his brilliant, wide smile, and she knew she was smiling back just as fiercely. "Kiss me." He breathed, and she flashed him another smile, before dropping her mouth back to his.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Kyla's little voice broke into them as her tongue met his. With a sigh she broke off, then rested her forehead against his for a second, before turning towards her daughter. As soon as the child had her attention, Kyla gave her a serious look and informed her, "Daddy slept in your bed."

"Well...Well..." her eyes widened, and she looked back at Ranger, then laughed. "Of course he did, honey." And then she remembered the time. "And oh, shit, I'm late for work."

"Take the day off, Babe. I know the boss. He'll be lenient today."

"Yeah. Luiz will have my head. What am I supposed to tell him?" she asked, sliding reluctantly down his body until her feet were back on the floor.

"Your childcare is unavailable due to illness." He suggested.

"Uh huh. That'll go over well, considering my childcare is his sister." She glared, then giggled.

"You're sick." Ranger said simply, and a jolt of heat shot through her as he pulled her in close to his body, gifting her with another sensual, radiant smile.

"Oh yeah." she rolled her eyes, bracing her hands on his chest, revelling in the warmth and feel of his body under her hands. "He'll believe that when he shows up over here with chicken soup."

She watched as his eyes turned serious, and felt his fingers tighten on her, nearly imperceptibly. "What's between you and Luiz?"

"Tank told him to take care of "the boss' woman." She rolled her eyes again. "He's been out here a couple of times to fix little things for me. He keeps a hawk eye on me and drives me insane. Has a soft spot for Kyla." She shrugged. He barely spoke, reminded her of Tank, and demanded perfection of her on the job. He was "Uncle Luiz" to Kyla, and her saving grace a few times. "He know you're back yet?"

"Nope. But I guess he will now." Ranger shook his head, one eyebrow raised. "I'll fix your little work problem for you." He grinned, kissed her hard one more time, then disappeared into the house. She watched him walk away, and wrapped her arms around herself, a perma-grin tightening on her face. Oh, how free she felt, this morning. Kyla was tugging her hand, dragging her towards the hole she was digging in the sand, and she dutifully went over to inspect it, and gush over it, as required. Her attention wasn't really totally there, though. Instead, she was worrying about what on earth he was going to say? Probably something like "Stephanie won't be in for work for the next year, she'll be too busy being ravished." She rolled her eyes. Then she admitted that that was way too many words for her man of mystery.

"Let's go in." She suggested to her daughter. By now Ranger would be off the phone, and they could start to see how they fit together. She picked Kyla up and swung her in a wide circle, enjoying the way she giggled. Setting her down again, she took her little hand and headed into the house. She swung the door open and walked in, just in time to hear Ranger's last words.

"...I just got back, I'm not going... No." His face went dark. "Fine. I'll be there in a couple hours." Her heart crashed to the floor, and she reached out blindly as the world started to spin.

So… The question is… Should I continue? Or is this the end??? Is Ranger really going away again?


	3. Picking Up the Pieces Pt2

**PLEASE NOTE: The first upload to of this did not upload the full document. so if it does not feel done, this is the full thing. My apologies!**

Ok, the finale. As always, I own nothing, it all belongs to the wonderful JE, and I'm just borrowing.

I owe a HUGE, HUGE thanks to Stayce for editing, and turning this into something decent.

And thanks to Karen for the extra opinion/edit on Candyland.

And Heidi for all of the help WITH Candyland – since I have never even SEEN the game, let alone played it! And Heidi and Feather and everyone who helped me with kidlet stuff J And Luisa for the Spanish!

So without further ado….I present to you….

**Picking up the Pieces…Part 2**

"...I just got back, I'm not going... No." His face went dark. "Fine. I'll be there in a couple hours." Her heart crashed to the floor, and she reached out blindly as the world started to spin.

He looked up as he flipped his phone shut, to see Stephanie swaying on her feet, the blood draining from her face until she was white as a ghost. In three long strides he was in front of her, catching her in his arms as she collapsed against him, shaking her head from side to side and mumbling no over and over and over. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her against him as tremors wracked her body.

"It's ok." He murmured, rubbing her back with one hand. "Steph, Babe. Listen to me. It's alright."

"No. No no no no no." she shook her head hard against him, catching him in the chin. He barely felt it as he focused in on her, felt her panic.

He shifted, placing both hands on her shoulders and giving her a single, hard shake. "Stephanie. Look at me." She shook her head again, but looked up at him.

"It's ok."

"Y-you c-c-can't...can't...can't leave!" she forced out, shaking her head over and over, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. She wasn't letting them fall, though.

"I'm not."

"You said you'd be gone in two hours!"

"Oh, Babe." He tucked her back into his arms, cradling her against him. He glanced down to where her hand was fisted in his shirt, clinging to him. Her knuckles were white. "I'm just going to-" He broke off and looked down as he felt a small fist hit his leg. Kyla punched him again, her face scrunched up so much like Steph's did when she was upset.

"You can't go away! Mommy cries." she ordered. Then, as his Babe opened her mouth to scold their daughter, Kyla started to wail. He stared at her as helplessness washed over him. He could handle raids on a Third World country no problem, but now he had two upset females, and he hadn't a clue how to fix it. As his daughter turned to run away, he stepped aside from Steph and caught her with one arm. As soon as he lifted her off the ground she started to kick and scream, swinging one arm out and catching him across the face as he cradled her against him. He tucked Stephanie up against him with his other arm, and kissed her cheek, before leading her to the couch, his arm around her waist.

He sat, tucking Steph into his side and Kyla on his lap. Soon the child was just sniffling, and his Babe was silent, her head resting against his shoulder. He could feel her sadness, and he hated that he had caused it.

"Luiz is having some problems with a client." He started, keeping his voice calm and quiet. He felt Steph nod against his shoulder, and turned his face to kiss the top of her head. "He wants my opinion. I'm going to go to the office and meet with him. That's all."

"I'm sorry." She whispered after a length of silence. "It's just...I thought..."

"I know. I didn't want anyone to know I was back yet, because of stuff like that. They've handled Rangeman for 4 years, another month won't hurt. I need the time off, Babe. But Luiz really wants me to look at this. I'm going to make it clear we're offline too."

"We?"

"I hope so." He admitted. He wanted her near him, no; he needed her near him, so badly. "We'll have breakfast. I'll go in. I'll be back by 3. Ok?" He asked.

"Ok." she whispered, nodding against him again. He ducked his head to kiss her hair, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her.

"You take care of Mommy while I go on my errand. I'll be back before bedtime and Mommy will be happy again, Ok?" He asked again, gently tipping his daughter's head up, with two fingers under her chin.

"Okay." She whispered, her voice small and teary as she cuddled up to him and looked up with big, wet brown eyes. His heart clenched, and he dropped a careful kiss on her forehead.

"I promise." He told both of them, then sat for a minute, relishing the feel of his Babe beside him, and allowing himself to feel the foreign sensation of the small child cuddled up with him. Finally he moved, and kissed the top of each head. They'd better get going, or he'd be late. "Let's go do something about breakfast." He suggested softly.

"Ok. Ok. It's ok. I just... It's just Luiz, right? Just Rangeman. You'll be back." She started to babble, and he tipped his head sideways to rest his cheek across the top of her head.

"I'm only going to Rangeman, Babe."

"Yeah. I know. Just Luiz." She stood up took three steps to the kitchen, the put on the brakes and turned into his chest. "I'll come with you."

"No...stay home, Babe. If you go, you'll wind up working, and you deserve a break. Stay with Kyla, and rest. You're exhausted." He set her a step back from him and cupped her cheek. "Why don't I bring Kyla with me so you can get some sleep?" He offered, his voice soft.

"I want to stay with Mommy."

"She'll just be in your way, Ranger."

He hugged her tightly and kissed her temple. "We'll go to the beach when I get back. Ok?" He felt her unsteadiness as she drew a shaky breath, then looked him in the eye and nodded.

**3:43 pm, Jan 10th**

She paced the room, back and forth, hear heart ramming in her throat. Where was he? He should have been back over a half hour ago. Realistically, she knew he probably just didn't get out of the office. But she couldn't keep her thoughts at bay. If it weren't for the missing SUV - he took it to get to Rangeman - she'd think she had imagined it all. Dreamed it. She paced the house, back and forth, peering out the kitchen window every few minutes. I knew it was too good to be true, she thought, wringing her hands together as she walked. She sat for a minute, but couldn't stand being still. Within seconds she was up and pacing again.

"Mommy? Where's daddy?" Kyla asked, looking up from where she was coloring at the small coffee table.

"He'll be here soon, sweetheart." She answered, but her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears. The day had turned dreary and overcast, and now she could hear the raindrops beginning to fall on the roof, again...a slow patter that mimicked her heart as it bled out, a drop for every moment he wasn't back. She deliberately untangled her fingers from one another then wrapped her arms around her stomach, warding off the sudden chill.

"Don't cry, Mommy. He promised" Her daughter whispered, looking at her with HIS eyes. She gave her a small smile.

"It's ok, sweetie." She said, before turning and moving back to the kitchen, peering out into the drizzling rainfall, looking, searching. When she walked into the living room again, Kyla was looking at her with her eyebrows crunched up together. "I'm going into my bedroom for a minute, sweetie. You keep coloring." She told her, then walked slowly and deliberately to her room, one ear still on any changes to the noise level.

Her first stop was the closet, where she checked for his bags. They were still there, empty, his clothes hanging in the closet. His scent wafted off of them, and hung around her, swirling in like a blanket, wrapping around her, invading her space and her senses. She stood a minute, torturing herself with it, before going over to the closest side of the bed, and opening the drawer to her nightstand. She pulled out a book, and opened it to the spot where she had tucked the pictures of them. She set them in her lap, and stared down at herself with Ranger, snuggled together in that tiny little photo booth. Oh, it was so long ago, she thought. So very long ago. And to have only had him back so short a time. She thought...well...that maybe it would have been better if he hadn't come back at all. Such a tiny taste of what it would be like to be whole again, and already it was drifting farther and farther away, twisting and wounding.

She wasn't sure how it happened, but she found herself back in the living room, checking on Kyla, then standing and staring at his picture on the small end table, her fingers wrung together so tightly her knuckles were white. She managed to be still for the first time in nearly an hour. And then, finally, the drone of an engine filtered to her ears. She practically flew to the kitchen, leaning over the counter and watching the headlights slowly appear through the grey of the afternoon. Her heart had stopped; she couldn't breathe as the black SUV came into sight, slowed, and turned down the drive. Her lungs screamed for air and she gasped in a breath, closing her eyes for a brief minute to concentrate on re-regulating her breathing. The car door slammed as she crossed the kitchen, and by the time she was halfway through the entrance, the door swung open and Ranger stepped inside.

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, his gaze searching her face. She knew it was white, again, she could feel the blood pooling at her feet. "Steph?"

"You...you...you're late." She whispered, only dimly aware of the pain in her hands from wringing them so tightly together.

"I know." He said as he took her hands in his, gently prying them apart. "It took longer than I thought. It's dealt with now, Babe. We're both offline for a while." He frowned down at their joined hands. "You're hands are like ice."

"You said you'd be back by three." She whispered dully, relief pushing the fear and pain aside, but not eliminating it completely. This time he came back, but would he next time? She carefully extracted her hands from his, and turned to cross the living room and stared out the big bay window onto the beach. The weather was as dreary as her life, she thought as she watched the sporadic splatter of raindrops gently mist the sand.

"Stephanie..." His voice was soft behind her. She could feel him, a few feet away. She could feel his frustration, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach to ward it off. "I can't always give you an exact time. You know that. You know my job."

She knew that, she really did, she thought. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kyla turn into her bedroom, and she was glad for the moment. She'd just play with her toys in there. Good. The silence in the room was deafening, uncomfortable. "I know..." she finally whispered, cursing herself for the rawness in her voice. "I know...It's just...I don't know." She turned to face him, her hands wrung together again. Pretty soon, she thought, they'll be flat. Hesitantly, she looked up into his face. "I had you for so short a time...and I was scared that...and I don't know if I can do this. I almost wish...that you were still gone...that you hadn't come." She realized as soon as she said it that it was the wrong thing to say. His blank mask slid into place, and she felt him close himself off, retreat from her, away to a place she couldn't follow. And it sliced through her heart.

"You know I'll go if you want me to." He told her, his voice expressionless.

"No. I need you." she shot back. Don't let him walk out the door, she prayed. "I need you." She repeated. "It's just..." The words just weren't there.

"Babe…" He said softly, stepping forward and taking her into his arms, cradling her against him. "I'm sorry. I should have called. I should have given you my new number so you could have called me." He paused, resting his face in her hair. "We need to talk about a few things, Ok?" She stiffened. Oh God. The talk. Where he says he's just on a brief leave, or something. His hands started to rub circles on her back, and she shivered as her emotions swirled together. "It'll be alright. Why don't we sit down and talk about it now?"

She nodded into his chest. "Do-Do you want me to call Julie to see if she can take Kyla on a sleepover?"

"No. I want to get to know my daughter."

"We can talk once she's in bed." She offered, her voice muffled in his neck.

He separated them slightly, then kissed her gently. "I'm sorry, Babe." He apologized again, then handed her a bag. She stuck her hand in, and her face lit up. She dropped a kiss on his lips, then took a bite of the Boston Crème donut.

**6:30 pm Jan 10th**

"Chuck-E-Cheese!" Kyla shouted gleefully. Steph had just asked her what she wanted to do tonight. He cringed inwardly at the thought of a place packed with parents trying to keep track of their kids. And then his heart seized as he thought of the possibility that he wouldn't be able to keep track of Kyla in the fray, that she might disappear on him. Relief followed immediately after as Stephanie informed the child that they had just finished cleanup after supper and her bedtime was in an hour and a half, they were NOT going out anywhere.

"Pick something we can do here at home." She told Kyla. The little girl's face fell, and she pursed her lips and wrinkled her eyebrows. Oh no, don't let her cry. He'd rather sit in the middle of a three-ring circus than have his little girl cry. Just as he was about to suggest they make an exception and go to Chuck-E-Cheese if that's what she really wanted, Kyla huffed a sigh.

"Candyland." She said, then turned and ran off towards her room. Steph moved off, staring out the bay window into the dark. Silently he stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and molding her back to his front. He rested his chin on the top of her head, hugging her gently. With a sigh, she turned sideways in his arms and wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling his chest with her cheek. He relished the feel of her body against him, and stayed with her, motionless, until he heard Kyla's footsteps running back into the living room. Slowly, he let her go and turned to find his daughter standing two feet away, Candyland in both hands, her bear tucked under her arm.

"Let's set this up on the coffee table." Steph suggested, moving away from him and taking the box from the child. He watched as they both knelt at the table in front of the couch, and Steph started taking pieces out. Steph opened the game board and Kyla dug around for the little gingerbread figures. "Are you coming?" Steph looked up at him. Ok, he could do this. He'd never actually spent a lot of time around his nieces and nephews, never mind Julie, and he'd certainly not spent that time playing Candyland. Celia would get a kick out of this, he thought as he chose a spot between each of his babes. His Babe and the Munchkin. His little Cosita, he smiled as he watched her carefully place the card deck Steph had just shuffled on the table beside the board. Then she picked up the four play-pieces, two in each hand, and eyed them with a critical expression.

"Cuddles is blue." She said, placing the blue piece in front of her bear, which was sitting on the floor between her and Stephanie. "I'm green. Mommy is red. You can be yellow, Daddy."

He eyed his piece critically, as Kyla placed it gently down in front of him. "Don't suppose I can paint it before we start." He commented, looking up at his Babe.

She giggled, and her eyes danced. Oh, he'd missed her lightheartedness. "No, Batman, you can go incognito for once."

"Mommy, what's incognito?" Kyla asked before he could tease her back.

"It means kind of invisible." Steph told her.

She looked at the piece, and then at him, her brow furrowed. "But it's not invisible. It's yellow." She said. Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Ok Daddy. You read the legend." She handed the box over to him.

"Your mom can read the legend." He suggested, trying to pass the box to her. Kyla's little hands came up and pushed it back in his direction.

"Mommy always reads it. I want YOU to." She demanded. He took one look at the pout forming in her eyes and nodded. Groaning inwardly, he looked down into the box.

"Once upon a time, King Kandy, the Imperial Head Bonbon and Grand Jujube of Candyland, disappeared..." He started to read. He read the story almost mindlessly, until Kyla interrupted him.

"That's not how Plumpy sounds." She stated critically. He looked up from the box and raised an eyebrow as he took in her frown.

"Really. And what does he sound like?" He asked.

"Show him, Mommy." Kyla demanded.

"A lost king is SOOOOO distressing." His babe said in a squeaky, high-pitched voice. She looked rather embarrassed, and he couldn't help but grin. His grin faded, however, when Kyla looked back at him.

"Now you try it."

"Demanding Munchkin, aren't you?" He asked, then repeated Steph's line and continued through the story. He didn't get very far, though, before Kyla spoke up again. And they continued on that pattern, his daughter interrupting him for every single character.

"He's supposed to be mean." She said, shoving him with her little hand when he got to Lord Licorice.

He looked down at her and growled "They'll never find the King or his Castle; I have hidden them from sight so all of Candyland will be mine." He continued as she nodded her approval. His little girl was tough to please, he thought, but found that she amused him as much as his Babe. Finally, finally he got through the story, with only two more interruptions, naturally at Queen Frostine and Gloppy.

"What's next?" He asked, putting the box down after getting through the legend.

"Now you take a card." Kyla informed him seriously. He actually couldn't for the life of him remember how to play this game, or even if he ever had, so he listened intently and let his daughter tell him how the game was played. She picked up her card. "I got orange. So I move my gingerbread man to the orange square." She moved her man to the orange square, then up the rainbow lane ladder.

"Wait a second. That's purple, not orange." He corrected her.

"But I got onto Rainbow lane, so I get to go up to the purple." she informed him importantly. He grinned at her. "Mommy's turn now." He watched as Steph played onto the first green. And then Kyla's bear played two purples. "Now pick a card." she told him, and he did. A red. The first square. Well geez, he thought. It's just game. They continued to play, although his attention was more on Kyla and Steph than on the game. He'd never thought of her as a mother, but the role suited her. Of course, he had to admit to himself, if it were Morelli's child, he wouldn't think so. He didn't ever remember having this feeling with Julie, this swelling of his heart for the woman who carried her. But Kyla… this little being who was part of him, and part of Stephanie…It was indescribable. Kyla was bouncing all over the place, but Steph never chided her. He felt her climb up onto the couch, and then she was behind him, hanging off of his shoulder as he picked the card and then moved his piece.

"That's wrong!" Kyla shrieked, leaning farther over his shoulder and tumbling off into his lap. She scrambled to her knees and reached for his piece, sticking it on the blue it belonged on. Then she turned and faced him, nose to nose, her little eyes narrowed into slits. "Don't you know your colors?"

He couldn't stop the chuckle that rose in his throat. "Yes, Munchkin, I know my colors."

"You put your gingerbread man on the wrong color." She accused.

"I wasn't paying attention. And you, quit laughing." He turned his attention to Stephanie, who was giggling behind her hand, eyeing him with dancing eyes.

"Daddy doesn't know his colors." Kyla announced again, this time loudly.

"Kyla-" she started, then smothered her laughter with her hands. He stared into his daughter's eyes, and grinned.

"Guess you'll have to teach me." He suggested. Kyla nodded seriously, then scrambled off of his lap to play her turn.

He was far behind, having picked every bad card available, when Kyla grabbed a card and shrieked happily. "I win! I rescued the king! He's back home with his family now. Just like Daddy, now." She decided. "Can we play again?"

"Nope. It's time to get ready for bed." Steph told her, a peculiar expression on her face. He sat back and watched her, as emotions spun through her eyes. His Babe, oh she was beautiful. As the mother of his perfect little girl, she was even more gorgeous than ever.

"But..."

"No Buts, Kyla-Leigh. Bedtime. Go get your PJ's on."

"Okay." Kyla said sadly. "Come on, Cuddles." She picked up her bear and shuffled towards her room.

"Did you have to let her call me Cuddles?" He asked, his voice pained. Steph looked up at him and shrugged.

"It's her bear, she can call him whatever she wants. Personally, I call him Bat-Bear." She said, stepping to him and lightly touching her mouth to his. Then she turned and started to pick up the pieces from Candyland, placing the cards and play-characters into the box, then the separator over top. She looked down, for a minute, reading the legend.

"I never really realized it before today." She whispered as she finally placed the gameboard in, "but this little legend hits kinda close to home." He crossed over to her and wrapped her in his arms, rocking her gently.

"Then let's try for happily ever after, Babe."

**8:30 pm Jan 10th**

"Did you really mean it?" She asked him, cuddling into his chest. They were in bed, already, at Ranger's suggestion. At first she thought he was suggesting sex, but once they had changed and crawled into bed, he had tucked her tightly against him. Now she was molded to his body, so close she didn't think the thinnest layer of air could get between them.

"Mean what?" He asked, his hand rubbing circles over her back. Biting her lip, she wondered if maybe she should have just not said anything. No, no, she was going to do this. She was going to be grown up, adult about this. Find out if there was any chance for a relationship. No more running, she told herself. She shifted so she could see his face, separating them a bit. He made a humming noise in the base of his throat, as if protesting the distance.

"Happily ever after."

He regarded her with something in his eyes she'd only seen in the hours before he left; a tenderness he'd never exhibited before. "I never say anything I don't mean, Babe."

And then he kissed her, with love and tenderness, and oh, there was that passion. That passion that she couldn't help but fall into, that made her mind spin out of control. This man could make her forget herself. She twined her fingers in his hair, and kissed him back, holding his head close to hers, hungry and desperate for his touch. His tongue was in her mouth, dancing with hers, drawing her, spiraling her away. Then his hand was warm on her breast, and he was kissing her face, her eyes, her neck... and down her collarbone... She didn't know when, exactly, it happened, but at some point when she started to drag herself back to reality, her body aching for his, she realized their clothes were gone, they were skin to skin.

"Carlos." she gasped, ending in a moan as he shifted, pressing against her. "Ranger. Carlos. Please."

"Dios, I missed you." He whispered, his hands coming up to frame her face. "Mine." He flexed, sliding slowly into her, and she whimpered as pleasure warred with discomfort. He froze. "Steph? How long's it been?" He asked her, his voice cracking slightly from strain. She opened her eyes and stared into his, touched by the concern in them.

"Four years." She admitted. "Carlos. Please." She begged, arching up into him. His eyes widened with something akin to awe, as well as something fiercely possessive that she couldn't name. Then he gently, slowly moved again, eliciting another moan from her as she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

"Mommy. Is Daddy hurting you?" He froze half-way inside of her, over top of her, as Kyla's voice filtered to their ears. "Daddy, why are you hurting mommy?" She felt her cheeks start to burn and she closed her eyes, praying she imagined her daughter's voice, so close to her ear. Finally she opened her eyes and turned her head to the side, to see Kyla standing at the edge of the bed.

"He's not hurting me, sweetheart." She told her, barely able to get the words out. Crap. No parenting book in the world prepared her for this.

"What's wrong, Cosita?" Ranger asked, his voice gentle and even, but slightly strained.

"The night monsters came. Mommy, can I sleep with you?"

Her mind spun. Oh God. "Yeah, baby, just go get your pillow ok?"

"But I don't need a pillow. You have two."

"One of those is Daddy's now, go get yours."

"Okay..." she narrowed her eyes, but turned and left the room.

"I think maybe, Babe, we'll call Julie in the morning and she can take Kyla for a sleepover tomorrow night. Just for one night." He said as he pulled out of her. She couldn't find her brain, or her legs, and she couldn't move. She was next to no help as he hastily pulled his boxers back on, and then dressed her as if she was a doll. All she could think was thank God they had still been under the covers. And then..Oh God, the first time in four years..FOUR YEARS...and with Ranger...and she couldn't even freaking have that?!

They got settled back in bed, and he drew her close, kissing her once lightly. She was just snuggling up against him when Kyla came back into the room and wiggled her way onto the bed. She shook her head as Kyla eyed the bed on her side. She was near the edge of the king-sized bed, while Ranger was in the middle. "The other side of your Daddy." She told her. She rested her head on Ranger's chest and watched as her daughter approached him somewhat hesitantly. Ranger reached out and drew her to him, tucking her up against him. Kyla snuggled into him with a sigh.

"This is what a family feels like." She wondered, tipping her head up to kiss his jaw. "It wasn't the same without you."

**10:00 pm Jan 10th**

"I'm sorry." Her soft whisper reached his ears, a caress in the dark. He turned his head to kiss her curls, and squeezed her gently.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Babe. I think we'd better get used to interruptions."

"Yeah." She burrowed against him, sighing. He couldn't pinpoint what he was feeling except that it felt right. So right. To have Steph cuddled up to him on one side, and the little person that was half him, half Stephanie, and already plowing her way into his heart wrapped up against his other side, was indescribable. Stephanie sighed, and he gave her another gentle squeeze.

"What happens now?" she finally asked, her voice the barest whisper. It struck him that it was as if she didn't think she really wanted to know.

"Babe?"

"You said we had to talk." She reminded him. Ah, that was his Babe. Do it under the cover of dark, in case he hurts her.

"Yeah. Where do you want to go for a vacation, Babe?" He asked. He felt her shift slightly in his arms, and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I don't know. With Kyla?"

"Of course."

"I don't know. Somewhere quiet. For how long? When?" She started to rattle off question, when he put his finger to her lips to calm her.

"Easy. We've got a month. I want to go to Trenton on Sunday and spend a week there. Then we'll go somewhere." He tipped his head sideways and rested it against hers. He was really looking forward to getting away with her. They needed time, to adjust, to figure things out. It wasn't going to happen overnight, and he wanted to figure it out without outside interruptions.

"What happens then? Back to real life? What happens if you have to leave again?"

"I won't. I'll have to go out of town for Rangeman stuff, but there will be no more missions." He could feel the gears in her head turning after he said this, as if she was trying to figure something out.

"But last time, you weren't supposed to do them anymore. Then they threatened Rangeman and you had to." She reminded him.

"They can't again. I'm absolutely unavailable to them." He said quietly. The Government had not only not cared if every member of the team they sent out died on that mission, but they almost preferred it to happen. The intel was dangerous in any hands, and they didn't want anyone left who knew what went down. Unfortunately for them, he managed to survive, even when his life was hanging by the barest of threads. The end result was that he was absolutely 100 free and clear, so long as he never breathed a word to a soul. He underwent eight months of Post-traumatic Stress therapy, still in lockdown and out of communication zones until the government felt he was safe to release into society. After signing reams of papers, he flew home to Trenton a truly free man, for the first time in his life. "I can't discuss it, Babe." he added, as he sensed her fear and realized he'd been silent too long. "But I promise you, they can't touch me." He felt her nod, and kissed the top of her head.

"Ever?" she asked, a minute later.

"Ever." She was silent after that, relaxed and boneless against him, but he knew she wasn't even close to asleep. "Steph." he added after a lengthy silence. "I love you. Sleep tonight, Babe."

"I love you too." She murmured back. He cuddled her close and whispered softly to her until she fell asleep, before nodding off himself.

**7:30 a.m. Jan 11th **

He woke quickly and instantly, as soon as Kyla started to squirm. He opened one eye to find her staring down, practically nose to nose with him.

"Morning Daddy. Time to get up," she informed him cheerfully.

"Shhhhh. Not yet. Mommy's still sleeping." He said, tucking her back down against him and anchoring her with one arm. She was quiet for a minute.

"Mommy can get up too." She decided. He shook his head. He wanted his Babe to sleep. He had slept with one eye open, and knew that she had woken up more than once. It was never for long, and she'd always drift off again after snuggling closer to him. It tugged his heart but also warmed it, the way she couldn't seem to get close enough to him. She could be plastered against him and still want to be closer...and that was more than alright with him. It meant he could hold her.

"Let her sleep, Cosita." He told her. She was quiet for a bit, before she started to wiggle. She squirmed out from underneath his arm, and climbed on top of him, lying on her stomach and propping herself up with her elbows on his chest. She looked up at him seriously. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She was such a unique mix of him and her, and he was absolutely awed by what he and Steph had created.

"Mommy's shirt was on the floor. I walked on it." She informed him. Both of his eyebrows shot to his hairline. Observant little critter, his daughter was. "It's on mommy now, though. Why?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer THAT?! Suddenly a mission in a third world country sounded very appealing to him. He scrambled through his mind for a decent answer. "She forgot it." He settled on.

"Why?" He had a bad feeling this conversation was far from over. He stared down at her in silent helplessness, seriously disliking the feeling of being out of control of the situation, while his little minx fired questions at him. "Why was it on the floor? Not supposed to leave clothes on the floor. Why were you on top of Mommy before? Why was Mommy making sad noises?"

"They were happy noises, Munchkin." He said numbly. He was not ready for this. Years, and years of highly specialized training, and for the first time in his life he was at a total loss. He didn't answer the rest wondering if maybe, if he ignored it, it would go away.

"Why did you get stole?" She suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?" Her train of thought confused him. She switched subjects quickly, and he could barely keep up. He didn't care though, he was just thankful she was off the subject of what she'd interrupted the night before. His daughter was too young to learn about sex. Maybe when she was 30.

"Mommy said you got stole." She announced.

"Fucking Government." Steph murmured into his neck. "I want him back."

"Fuckin' gummymint!" Kyla shouted. He jerked, not expecting it, as Stephanie nearly leapt off the bed.

"Kyla!" She snapped, then gentled her tone. "That's a bad word, sweetie, don't say that." He settled her back down against him and kissed the top of her head gently, then turned to look his daughter in the eye.

"But Mommy, you said it first." She pointed out. He choked back a chuckle and gave her a look that he really hoped was serious.

"It's a bad word and Mommy won't use it again either." He informed her.

She nodded seriously, then repeated her question. "Why did you get stole?"

"Because the government needed me. But I'm back now." He said softly, then nuzzled Steph's curls, breathing in her scent. "Morning, Babe."

"Mmmm...Morning." She tipped her head up and smiled at him. He gave her a smile back and kissed her softly. Then he turned back to Kyla who was poking him in the chest.

"Can we get up now?" She demanded.

"Babe, she's incorrigible." He said, but he knew his words were powerless with the grin he couldn't wipe away.

**3:00 pm** **Jan 11th **

She rested her head against his chest and sighed, enjoying the sunshine. They were sitting tucked up together, his back against a palm tree and she was on his lap, watching Kyla play in the park. They weren't talking, but they didn't need to. She was just grateful that he was there, and he was real, and she was finally starting to believe it. Kyla had opened up to him quickly, too, chattering her head off; she thought, as she lazily traced circles on the back of the hand he had splayed across her stomach. The child had never been particularly shy, she had most of Rangeman Trenton AND Miami wrapped around her finger, but she hadn't stopped talking all day; so much so that they couldn't have gotten an adult sentence in edgewise.

And now, when they could talk, she had no desire to. All she wanted to do was enjoy the feel of him around her. "I'm glad you're back." she said softly after a while. "I didn't mean what-"

"I know, Babe." He kissed the top of her head and moved one finger on her stomach in a gentle caress. She relaxed against him with a sigh. She didn't know how he always knew what she was thinking, but she loved how special it made her feel. She loved how cherished he could make her feel, with so little as a look. She closed her eyes and let herself go boneless against him. She felt a bit guilty about it, but she was glad Rachel and Julie were coming to pick up Kyla, giving her a night along with Ranger. She'd spent 3 years at the beck and call of a little person, and oh she loved her more than she ever thought she could or would... but just one night, she wanted to be selfish and not have to share her time. Well, except with Ranger. She wanted one night alone WITH Ranger...just one...she needed -

"OMIGOD." She jerked.

"What's wrong?" His hands moved against her, trying to settle her. She twisted a bit and sunk down against him.

"It's ok. Um... I just realized. We need to stop by a drug store on the way home." Now, she was definitely grateful Kyla had interrupted them the night before. If anything had resulted, would he have blamed her? And how could she possibly have forgotten about birth control the night before? Oh, she knew why. It had been four years since she'd had reason to worry about it. And before Kyla, she'd been on the pill. After she was born, she just couldn't be bothered trying to remember one more thing in her day, and had no reason to bother anyhow.

"Steph?" His quiet voice broke through her thoughts. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah..It's just...We need condoms." she whispered into his chest. She was dimly aware of his hands rubbing gently down her arms, her sides, her stomach. He kissed the top of her head. "It's a good thing nothing happened last night, huh?" She twisted to look at him, and felt his hand come up to cup her cheek.

"Would another child be so bad?" He asked her softly. Would it? No, she'd love to have another one, maybe a little boy, a little Ranger. But right away? No. She just wanted him, right now. They needed to get used to each other, to create their life as the three of them before adding... "Babe?" He interrupted her thoughts and she jerked her eyes back up to his.

"No. No. It wouldn't. But maybe not quite yet." She tucked her head under his chin. "I just...it still doesn't feel quite real, you know? Like any minute I'll wake up and it will all have been a dream, and it'll just be me and Kyla and a hole. And... And... I just want us to get used to this again. Used to this period. We've never had this. I don't even know what this is. I do-"

"Babe. You're rambling." He soothed, and she stiffened.

"Omigod. I said all that out loud."

"Yeah. You did." He chuckled, and she contemplating hitting him for finding her so amusing. "We're gonna find a way to work through it all, Babe. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." She settled back against him and watched as Kyla played in the sand, giggling and laughing with one of the little girls who was often here. Normally she visited with the girl's mother, but today they said a brief hello, introduced Ranger, and then separated. She wanted, no she needed quiet time with him. She was just dozing off when she was startled wake.

"Hi!" Julie's tall, slim form plopped down onto the grass, sitting cross-legged in front of them. She felt Ranger stiffen, and after greeting Julie twisted back to look at him. Oh yeah, and there was the father who realized his other little girl was practically grown up. She smiled softly at him, then looked up at Rachel.

"Thanks for taking Kyla." She offered. Rachel started to speak but was interrupted by Ranger, who hadn't quite managed to move past Julie.

"You've grown."

"Well, Ranger, it's been four years." Julie pointed out, then added. "I'm glad you made it back." Steph slid sideways off of his lap and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers.

"You're over fifteen now." Ranger said.

"Yup. Almost driving!" Julie chirped. She leaned against Ranger's shoulder and suppressed a giggle. She'd gotten to know Julie and Rachel fairly well, and they both made sure the sisters knew each other. Julie's current lifelong goal was to reach sixteen and get her driver's license. She still had nine months to go, but that didn't seem to matter to her.

"She's got her learner's permit already." Rachel volunteered, halting Julie before she could start in about what kind of vehicles she and all of her friends wanted. Steph was used to that spiel, even amused by it. She had a lot of Ranger in her, despite his distance from her life. Well, except Julie's ideal car wasn't black, it was bright yellow. She suppressed a chuckle, and felt Ranger squeeze her hand.

"Let me know when she's going to get her license. We can talk about getting her a car." Ranger told Rachel.

"You don't have to -" Rachel started, but Julie interrupted her, leaning forward eagerly.

"A Porsche?"

"Absolutely not." Ranger said at the same time as Rachel said "No."

"Why not? Ranger has one." She loved how the teenager thought that was the most reasonable explanation in the world. Part of her couldn't wait for Kyla to be that age, but part of her wanted her to stay little and reasonably manageable forever.

Ranger and Rachel looked at each other, then Ranger looked at Julie. "I'll buy you a Porsche when you graduate college." He informed her. Julie scowled and shook her head.

"There's that college word again. Geez. I'm going to go get Kyla." She said, pushing to her feet and heading off. Kyla spotted her right way, and zeroed in towards her.

**1:30 am Jan 12th **

"What made you come to Miami." He asked as he cuddled her close, still buried inside of her. She made a small, contented hum in her throat before shifting slightly and tucking her head under his chin, so she could hear his steady heartbeat. They had just made love four, glorious times, and it was just as wonderful as she remembered. It had been so long, but it felt so good, so right. There was no one else for her, she knew. No one who could ever make her feel like this. "Babe?" He asked softly, reminding her that he had asked her a question.

"I guess I ran away." She admitted softly.

"You never run away. You're a bull after the red flag. Why did you move?" He asked again. His voice was soft and quiet against her hair, filled with questions. For once, the man who knew everything didn't know something, and she knew it was bothering him. She wiggled against him, snuggling closer, and his arms tightened around her. He felt so good. She closed her eyes, and thought about how to answer him. As usual, he waited patiently for her to get her thoughts together. He always knew, always. Oh, she loved this man. She still couldn't believe he was back; she still feared she'd wake up and find she was dreaming. That she'd wake up and find the pieces shattered; scattered at her feet again. Oh yeah. His question.

"You know...how when something breaks, into hundreds of tiny pieces? When it's something you need, and can't replace... you have to glue it back together again. But it never fits together exactly like it used to, right?" She asked, then swallowed. "So you put it back together, and there are all these little holes... You can cover them with silly putty...slowly... But until they're covered, they're open to being poked at. And when they're poked at, it weakens the cracks you glued together...until the pieces threaten to break apart again. Everyone kept poking at the holes. All the time. Here was Stephanie, alone and pregnant. And she turned down the man who 'loved her enough' to raise her mistake as his own. No." She added quickly as she felt him stiffen underneath her body. "Joe didn't say that. Joe... Joe was good. Actually, Joe asked me to marry him."

She thought back to that time. She remembered so vividly the joy on his face when she told him she was pregnant, and then the way it all came crashing down as he realized it wasn't his. They'd parted ways quietly, despairingly. The betrayal that was in his eyes that night had haunted her for a long time. Then a week later, when he came and asked her to marry him.

"I turned him down, of course. I couldn't do that to him, it wouldn't have been fair to marry him when...when I was so in love with you. Even if you weren't there. He was good, is still a good friend. But... you know. My mom. The Burg. You know. Like usual. But they poked at the holes until I couldn't take it. So I moved. Somewhere I could heal."

"Have you?"

"Yeah. Mostly." She stopped and took a deep breath, then admitted, "I never stopped missing you."

"Missed you everyday, Babe." He paused. "Have you been happy here?"

"Yeah. I never thought I'd say this, and I still can't cook, not really...but I wouldn't trade Kyla for anything."

"We'll hire Ella for the Batcave." He told her, kissing the top of her head. She sighed in contentment.

"I'm happier now. So happy I'm scared that I'll wake up and...and..."

"I know." He whispered against her hair, and then he started to talk to her about everything and nothing. She couldn't hold a thought, and eventually drifted off to sleep, lulled low tones of his voice and the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

**11:30 am Jan 12th **

"Julie, can you do me a favor and pack Kyla's stuff?" She called as she pulled a couple of suitcases out. After hearing the girl holler an affirmative, she stuck her head in the closet and began to dig out clothes. Rachel had dropped the girls off in time for breakfast, and now she was in a frantic last minute hurry to get packed for their flight to Trenton.

She was standing the bed, folding clothes frantically when Ranger walked into the room, his hair wet from his shower, and wrapped his arms around from behind. "Love you, Babe." He pulled her backwards against him, and then slipped something around her neck. She looked down to find a pendant dangling from a gold chain. Carefully she slipped a finger through the chain, lifting the pendant so she could see it easier. It was a white gold mother-child necklace, she realized, with a large series of small diamonds trailing down from the top of the mother down to a much larger diamond at the bottom of the pendant. She gazed down at it as her eyes filled with tears.

She turned in his arms and buried her face in his neck, breathing in Bulgari and Ranger. She hugged him tightly, working at keeping her emotions under control. "Love you too." She finally murmured, kissing the side of his neck. "Gotta get packed, though. Where're we staying?"

"The Batcave, of course." He answered, as she tried to move out of his arms. He wouldn't let her go. "No panic, Babe. We've got another half hour. Are you ok?"

She thought about that for a minute, then looked up at him. "Yeah." She was still a bit shocked, still couldn't believe he was really there, she thought, as she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, looking down at her with a gentle expression she'd never seen. "Are you sure you're ok with having an instant-family?"

"Yeah. I am. I love you, Stephanie. And Kyla. She's perfect." He dipped his head to meet her lips, and she kissed him back hungrily. Oh, she wished they had more time, and no kids in the house, still. She would never get enough of him. He kissed her once more, a soft, tender kiss, then tucked her head under his chin and rocked her. She closed her eyes and soaked in the feel of him. This is what was missing. This man. And she realized, as she stood wrapped tightly in the arms of this man who made her whole, that everything really was alright, now. The pieces had changed, molded, gained some sharp edges, maybe. But they'd figure out how to sand them down, reshape them as they went. All that mattered was that the missing piece, that piece of her heart he carried with him when he left, was back. And they could do anything. They had each other, and a beautiful little girl. Once again, the pieces fit.

_So… this is the end… but there is the possibility of another short-short piece to sequel it yet again. So let me know if you want it, or if it's time to put this beast to rest J :p _


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